Why Charlie Weasley Isn't in the Movies
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: Because he's too busy being Rory Williams. Set before "Angels Take Manhattan", HP cannon pairings, DW cannon pairings. Final chapter now includes ATM spoilers and references S7 part 2. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**So my laptop is broken, but has half a chapter of my in-progress DW story on it, so I figured, why not start a crossover while I wait. Anyway, as for this story, you all know that this had to be written about. Actually, I'm not sure if it already has been, and if so, sorry. But here it is. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Why Charlie Weasley Isn't in the Movies**

"Arthur, what are we going to do?" Molly Weasley wailed, rocking back and forth with the force of her sobs as she sat on their bed. Arthur looked on in dismay, feeling helpless. And yet he'd known this day was coming for some time now.

He loved being a husband and a father. He loved his wife and children. Each of them was unique and different in their own way, and he loved each of them for it.

But one of his children was just a little _too_ different from the others.

It had started small. While Bill had been levitating the cookie jar down from the top shelf practically since he could eat them, his brother—younger by a single year—calmly played with blocks or figurines. And when Percy wanted to read past his bedtime without his mother knowing, he could light and put out a candle without even getting out of bed. His older brother instead went to bed when he was told, and woke up early to play outside if he wanted. He'd tried not to notice, but now even the twins—infants!—could unlock their playpen to explore if they so chose.

Something was wrong with Charlie's magic.

It wasn't even that his second son was bad at underage magic. He just didn't seem to bother with it at all. Once, the boy had discovered a bird with a broken wing and he'd gently carried it back to the Burrow. Molly had been all set to heal it, but Charlie had raised up a hand to stop her.

"Don't, mum! He's scared and hurt. If you fix it now, he won't understand." So a bewildered Molly had sat by and watched as her five year-old had set about putting the bird's little wing into a splint and making a bed for it in an old shoebox.

That had convinced him more than anything; Charlie was a Squib. Getting Molly to admit it was proving much harder.

"My poor baby!" His wife cried as though talking about a dead child, at last snapping him from his reflections. Arthur sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair.

"There now, Molly-wobbles, it's alright."

"But—a Squib, Arthur!"

"He's still Charlie," was all he said in reply. Arthur was very adamant about that. Regardless of magical ability, Charlie was still their son. His reminder seemed to calm her somewhat, for she took a shuddering breath and wiped at her eyes.

"Oh, I know, Arthur. I'm just…afraid." And he couldn't deny the identical shivers that went through them.

Charlie being a Squib wasn't a problem—or rather, it wouldn't be if not for the war.

His stance on Muggles and Muggle-borns already made the name 'Weasley' mud amongst the Death Eaters. But if word reached them that they had a Squib son, that would put them all in danger. Still, he refused to just give in to the fear. He was not a coward. Molly's twin brothers had already sacrificed their lives for the cause. The least he could do was keep his son safe.

"We can't let anyone find out. No one except those we absolutely trust."

"But how? M-Mrs. Wood's already b-been asking if the boys want to c-c-come over, and she's n-not the only one. The only reason it h-hasn't been so much is because everyone's scared! And w-what happens when he d-d-doesn't get his H-Hogwarts' letter?" These were all logical points and he thought long and hard about them, remaining silent for some time.

"Well, we'll just have to say he's been accepted somewhere else. An apprenticeship. Why, they're not uncommon."

"B-but he hasn't been!"

"I know," he sighed. This was where explaining could get tricky. "Which is why Charlie can't stay here—at the Burrow."

She tore herself from his embrace faster than he could blink, staring at him with a mixture of horror and a mother's rage. "We are not abandoning him, Arthur!"

"Of course not, Molly," he hastened to assure. "But Charlie isn't safe here. What's more, he won't be happy once he gets older, growing up around magic and unable to do it. We've got to raise him in an environment where he'll feel included."

Her eyes had gone wide and her mouth had dropped open. "You don't mean," she whispered hoarsely, "the Muggle world?"

"That's exactly what I mean," he stated. "We can buy a little house in the next village- not too far away and we know how to Apparrate. They start school at an early age, Molly, so he won't be alone. That way, you can watch the kids here during the day and I'll be home for Charlie in the evening."

"We don't have money for a house," his wife pointed out, shaking her head. Tears were streaming down her face at the thought of letting go of one of her babies.

"I'll just have to work a little harder, that's all," he reasoned. "Perkins has been hinting I could make Department Head by the end of the year."

"This really is the best we can do, isn't it?" She asked at last, collapsing against his shoulder.

"Yes, Molly, it is."

OoO

Making all the necessary arrangements proved easier said than done. Procuring a house was the first obstacle. He and Molly had argued back and forth over why Charlie could not stay in Ottery St. Catchpole. It was just too close, too easy to make the connection. Normally he let his wife have her way without a fight, but the safety of his family was at stake.

So they finally settled on the quiet village of Leadworth, where the biggest landmark was a post-office—a building he was itching to explore—and it was close enough that Charlie could run home to Mummy by nightfall if he needed to.

He'd taken some odds and ends he'd been tinkering with in the shed and put them together with magic, though it had felt disappointingly like cheating. But Arthur was sure he'd have fun figuring out which rubbery snakes went into which holes-in-the-walls.

It had been a long and arduous process at Gringotts, but he'd converted enough wizard money into the British Weight to put the first payment down on the house and to buy about two weeks' worth of Muggle clothes for himself and Charlie. He'd also given his sons one of the flimsy, colorful papers to look at, which had lasted about five minutes before Fred had eaten it.

When he'd bought the house, however, Arthur had been in for a shock.

"Can I have your name and information?"

He'd frozen in his seat, never anticipating this. He couldn't give his real name; that would defeat the whole purpose of hiding Charlie. He quickly racked his brain for a common, Muggle name.

There was William, but that was a tad too common and it was Bill's name. Then again, that would help him to remember it. Bill, Charlie, Percy…Percival, who they'd gotten the name from—Brian!

"Er, Brian- Williams," he'd stammered. He'd had to use a mild Confundus Charm to get everything sorted properly, something he'd likely feel guilty about forever. But as a father, he would do whatever it took.

Now, at last, came the part that he thought was most likely to break his heart. Arthur ascended the rickety, crooked stairs of their home with a sinking feeling in his chest. If there was only another way. Pausing outside the twins and Percy's bedroom door, he listened.

"And then, they came face-to-face with a big…giant…dragon!"

The twins shrieked with laughter at Charlie's—whom they called 'Charwy'—story. But Percy grumbled, "I wanted a _real_ bedtime story."

"This is real, Perce!" Exclaimed his eldest, Bill. "Now do the dragon noise, Charlie, go on."

The twins cheered their support and his son sighed. "Oh, alright then. _RAWR!_"

They all laughed, and he felt wretched, but knocked and entered on this moment between his sons. "Hello, boys," he smiled warmly at them: Bill, at the foot of Percy's bed; Percy, sitting up straight and stiff against the headboard; Fred and George, tangled up in the blankets of their crib they shared by choice; and Charlie, standing in between as he told his tale.

"Hey, dad," Bill greeted.

"Have you come to say goodnight?" Percy asked curiously, blinking up at him behind his recently acquired glasses.

"Yes, I have," he told them, walking forward and shooing Bill off the bed so he could properly tuck the boy in. "And that means you all need to go to bed." Carefully, he plucked the spectacles from the young boy's face and set them on the nightstand, bending over to place a kiss to his ginger waves. He then leaned over the crib to sort out his identical sons, and kissed them both goodnight. "Come on, Bill, Charlie, let your brothers sleep."

"Ok," his eldest agreed, taking Charlie by the arm and leading him out of the room. Bill and Charlie, nearly inseparable…oh, what was he doing. "Goodnight, guys!"

"Goodnight, Bill," was the chorus of three young voices.

"Goodnight," Charlie added as well, not wanting to feel left out.

"Goodnight, Charlie," Percy yawned, settling back against his pillow.

"Goodnight, Charwy," one of the twins responded.

"_Rawry_!" The other shouted instead, setting his double off in a giggling fit. "Goodnight, Rawry!" Arthur shook his head fondly as he waved his wand at the light and shut the door.

"Goodnight." He turned around on the landing to see his two older sons already making their way up to the room they shared. "Ah, Charlie, your mother and I need to talk to you for a minute."

"You do?" He turned, looking uncertain and likely going through that mental checklist children had of what they'd done wrong that day.

"Yes, but it's alright. Just come down with me to our room. Bill you go on to bed, your brother will be up soon." Bill's shoulder's slumped as he seemed put out that his younger brother got to stay up later, but continued on his way. Arthur placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder and guided him down a flight of stairs to his and Molly's room. She was waiting, eyes red and puffy, and he was sure she'd only just managed to stop crying.

"Are you ok, mum?" Their son asked and she offered a watery smile.

"Of course, dear. Now, you just sit on the bed with Mummy, and we'll have a nice little chat." Charlie hopped up onto the mattress, perched on the edge next to his mother as she wrapped an arm around him, and Arthur stood before them both.

"Charlie, you know that we live in a world of magic- we're wizards." He nodded, and Arthur took a breath, trying to use this as momentum to keep going. "Well, being a wizard is something you're born with, and not everyone is."

"Like Muggles?" He questioned, tilting his head to one side.

"Exactly," he praised. His son, such a bright young boy. "But sometimes, in a wizard family, there can be members born into it who don't have magic, either. They're not called Muggles, they're Squibs. It's hard to be certain until they reach Hogwarts-age, but if a child does not show signs of underage magic, then they are likely a Squib."

"Oh," their son said, and then he looked down at his feet. "I haven't done any magic. Does that mean I'm a Squib?" His big, wide eyes glanced up at the end, and Arthur swallowed once.

"Yes, Charlie, you are."

"But that doesn't change anything," Molly cut in, squeezing his shoulders tightly. "Not to us, not how we feel about you. We love you, Charlie, do you understand?"

"He looked up at her, seeming to grow nervous when he saw the wetness of her eyes. "Yes, mummy."

"But, it does mean that things will have to be a little different," Arthur informed him, gently as he could. "Charlie, we want you to be happy and we want you to succeed. So to do that, you have to learn how to live without magic, like a Muggle."

"Like you do in the shed?" He inquired innocently and Arthur winced.

"Er, yes, Charlie. But," he added hurriedly, not wanting to let his wife get started about the shed, "Muggle children your age, they go to school."

"Already?" He scrunched up his nose at this, like any child, and he had to chuckle.

"Yes, they do. But I'm sure it is fun, and you get to meet all new people and make friends. The only problem is, Charlie—we can't let other wizards find out."

Now his son appeared very confused. "Why not?"

"Well, your mother and I have warned you about the bad people, haven't we?" The little boy nodded again, looking a little scared. What sort of world did they live in where children had to be afraid? But it strengthened his resolve to go through with this, to make sure his son was safe. "They don't like Muggles, and especially wizards who associate with Muggles."

"But the Muggles in town are nice, and you're nice, Daddy," the child pointed out, and he had to smile at that.

"I know, son. But sometimes bad people are mean to good people for no other reason than that they are bad. So, we want to make sure the bad people don't know about you being a Squib. For that, Charlie, I need you to do something for me. I need you to pretend you aren't Charlie Weasley- you're going to pretend to be a normal, Muggle boy."

"How?" He looked uncertain, and yet just a tiny bit excited, and that was what Arthur had been hoping for. That his son would see this as something of a game. Better that than the alternative.

"Well, you and I are going to live in a Muggle village called Leadworth, and you'll go to school. We'll come back to the Burrow at night and on the weekends so that you still can play with your brothers and your mother can make sure you're being taken good care of." He was honestly surprised Molly was allowing this much. But she too was willing to sacrifice. "But to the other people in that village, you and I will be normal Muggles—normal people, Charlie, because they don't call themselves Muggles—and live in a little house together. Can you do that?"

"I- I think so," the child offered, and his mother pulled him onto her lap to give him a proper hug.

"My brave, brave boy. Oh, my little Charlie," she murmured over and over. Arthur sighed a final time.

"And just one more thing. You're going to need a new name, so the bad people can't find us." Charlie turned in his mother's arms to look at him.

"I don't get to be Charlie anymore?"

"I'm afraid not," he said sadly, forcing a comforting smile to come onto his face. "But you get to pick a brand new name for yourself." He could do that, at least, for his son. Charlie sat on his mother's lap and seemed to be thinking as hard as a five year-old could.

"Rory," he stated at last, and Arthur blinked, not expecting an answer so soon. But then he realized what his son was doing. He was trying to hang on to what his simple life had been not half an hour ago. Rawry…

"Ok," he nodded. "Rory Williams." Molly was overcome and seemed too distraught to say anything. "We'll talk more in the morning, but for now we should be getting to bed." Arthur lifted his son up from his wife's lap and carried him up the stairs, needing to hold him in his arms to be sure that he could do this, he could protect him. The light was already off in the room and Bill was snoring, so he set the child down in the unoccupied bed and drew the covers up around him, brushing back his hair to place a kiss to his temple.

"Goodnight, Rory," he whispered, joining Molly downstairs and trying his hardest to sleep. The rest of his son's life would start tomorrow.

**So that's the first chapter. I'm not sure if I want to structure all of them up like this, but I figured I should set up Rory(Charlie)'s background so you guys understand. I might do another chapter showing Rory's life growing up dealing with his secret before we get to the fun stuff of meshing the two fandoms together. The rest of this story will be a lot funnier, guys, I promise. Anyway, thanks for taking time to read, and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so I was pleasantly surprised by the extremely positive response this idea has received already, so as not to disappoint, I'm going to start working on the next chapter! Thanks so much for the feedback, and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Two**

While he had not been expecting it to be easy, the first two years of his and his son's double-life were very hard. Though an incredibly kind boy, Rory was not the most outgoing and was the new kid in school. This combined with the fact that he'd never watched the tellybox, or never played the strange gaming videos, made it hard for him to fit in with the other students. But there wasn't much Arthur could do about it except encourage the child to try harder.

On the other hand, there were the complications of the Burrow. Bill missed his favorite playmate during the day, and Percy and the twins couldn't understand why suddenly Charlie wasn't around as often. He would have to wake the boy up incredibly early each weekday in order to get him fed and packed up so he was ready to Apparrate to the house in Leadworth. Rory would then walk out the front door and to school.

Their home itself was incredibly bare, with only the necessities. He'd thought that it could possibly present a problem, but Rory never brought anyone home, and Arthur was always at work during the day so they never received adult visitors. One day, however, as he observed his son doing homework at the kitchen table—he'd learned early on that concentration on schoolwork was impossible at the Burrow—the tellyphone had rang.

Nonplussed, Arthur picked it up and held it to his ear, fairly certain he'd got it the right way up. "Williams' residence, Brian speaking." Teaching Rory to use the phone had been an interesting experience for both of them, but it was best that he had answered it this time.

"Mr. Williams, this is Rory's teacher at the school," the caller replied and he nodded a moment before realizing the other person couldn't see him through the strange Muggle device.

"Ah yes, is there a problem?" He couldn't see why there would be, but for what other reason would the teacher be calling?

"No, everything's fine. It's just that your son, he seems to have problems focusing."

"Oh?" Arthur asked worriedly.

"Yes, I often have to call his name three or four times before he realizes he's being talked to. I just wanted to make sure he's getting enough sleep and eating properly."

"Well, yes, I think so," he answered. Perhaps he should have been offended, but Arthur was now concerned as well. What was causing his son problems? The teacher hung up shortly thereafter, just as the boy slid back in his chair and hopped off, coming to stand by him.

"I'm done, dad," he announced, and Arthur attempted a smile, before preparing to transport them to the Burrow.

"Charlie!" Molly cried, overjoyed as she always was, as soon as they appeared in the sitting room.

"Hi, mum," the child greeted his mother happily with a hug, and suddenly it dawned on Arthur, why Rory had to have his name called several times before it registered. He still didn't think of it as his own name, and that was their fault.

As the children ate dinner, he asked Molly to join him in the sitting room. "Molly, I got a call from Rory's teacher today."

"Why?" She asked immediately, glancing back into the kitchen to make sure that her baby wasn't hurt. "What's wrong with Charlie?"

"Exactly," he nodded decisively, and his wife looked perplexed.

"What are you saying, Arthur?"

"I'm saying that we are confusing our son, Molly. I know we named him Charlie, and he will always be a Weasley—but his name _has_ to be Rory Williams. We have to call him that, both of us," Arthur explained firmly. Molly was still upset.

"But he _is_ Charlie, Arthur! We agreed here, at home, he is still our Charlie. We can't call him Rory, what about the other children? They all know he's Charlie, you'll only confuse them!"

"We'll figure it out, but there's no other way. In order for this to work, Rory has to feel like he's Rory, he has to be Rory. It's important to him, Molly."

"He can be Rory at school. At home, he is our son!"

"He still is!"

"No, _you_ decided he was the son of a widower. A widower, Arthur! Or shall I call you Brian?" He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a harsh laugh. "No, you're right, Brian is too familiar—Mr. Williams, then?"

"Molly—" He reached out a hand, unsure of what to say. He knew that this was one of the most upsetting aspects to their plan; Brian Williams didn't have a wife, and Rory Williams didn't have a mother.

"Don't!" Molly cried stubbornly, tears starting to leak out of her eyes. "What are we even doing, Arthur? You're never home anymore and Charlie—_Rory's_ at that Muggle school, away from his brothers. We're ripping this family apart!"

"Molly, we can work this out—"

"I'm _pregnant_, Arthur!"

Things continued to get difficult with the birth of Ronald Bilius Weasley. Molly was struggling to care for the brand new infant while also keeping a watch on their other sons, especially the incredibly rambunctious twins. Percy spent hours on his own reading in his room to try and escape the chaos, and Bill tried his best to help his mother when his father was at work.

He knew it pained Rory to not be able to spend as much time with his new brother as the others, and not be able to talk about it to anyone in Leadworth. Arthur was sure it also hurt whenever little Ron would smile and giggle at the funny faces Bill would make for him, but stare at Rory with confusion or curiosity, like he would a near-stranger. But as the Great Wizarding War continued to escalate, he knew he had made the right choice.

And one day, everything changed.

OoO

He had managed to get off work a little early, and so was sitting at the kitchen table with the _Leadworth Chronicle_ when Rory ran in the door, an extra bounce to his step Arthur hadn't seen in a long time.

"How was school today?" He asked in interest as his son climbed into the chair across from him.

"Good. There's a new girl in class- her name's Amelia Pond," Rory informed him.

"Oh?" He lowered the newspaper some with a raised eyebrow to see his son smiling.

"Yeah, and she sat next to me in class!" It was like the boy couldn't believe it. The father in him couldn't help but wonder just how long his child had been sitting alone in class, but overall was quite pleased with this latest development. It seemed Rory had finally made a friend.

From that day on, any time Arthur asked his son about school or anything Leadworth-related, the answer always had something to do with this Amelia Pond. From what he'd learned, little Amelia was seven like Rory, and had just moved here with her parents from Scotland. Her aunt lived in the area as well.

Soon after, an orphan girl being raised by the local Muggle church named Mels joined the two friends to make a trio. According to Rory, Mels was much more of a trouble-maker, but was genuinely a good friend at heart. Arthur couldn't be happier.

Unfortunately, his happiness was dampened slightly one Friday afternoon. Rory had just finished up his homework and Arthur had just finished up collecting the week's wash and dirty dishes for the trip back to the Burrow. "Ready to go, Rory?"

His son paused in sticking the folder back in his bag. "Er, actually dad, I was sort of wondering…" he trailed off looking a little nervous.

"Yes?" Arthur prompted gently. His son seemed to gather up his courage.

"Well, Amelia sort of invited me and Mels over to her house on Saturday, and I- er –I want to go."

Oh dear. While he was thrilled at the idea that his son had an actual play-date with Muggle children, he wasn't so sure his wife would feel the same, and Rory had obviously picked up on that as well. "Well," he started, licking his lips once.

"I'll do the dishes!" Rory blurted out suddenly, clearly quite desperate. It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing for the boy to learn, really, seeing as he'd need to once he was older.

"I don't see why not. We'll stop by the Burrow tonight and let everyone know what the plans are." The excited grin on Rory's face was enough to carry him through Molly's protests.

So as he started filling the sink with water for his son, he was surprised when Rory started rifling through the laundry basket. "Can I borrow a tie, dad? The swirly one? Amelia says her dad doesn't have any weird ones." His son also took a blue button-down shirt, much too large for him, and he had to silently puzzle over what game Amelia Pond had planned.

If Arthur had known that one Saturday afternoon would quickly turn into every Saturday afternoon, however, he likely wouldn't have had the strength to agree to it.

OoO

It was fast approaching the happiest day of Rory's life, and he was a nervous wreck. Everything was set up; the church, the reception hall, the minister, the DJ, the dresses and tuxes, the cake and meals and drinks, the rings- everything! Augustus had graciously paid for everything- insisted upon it, actually, which was really a good thing as his nurse's salary just didn't quite cover it. Not to mention his family's bank account.

And that was the problem. His family. Which no one—including Amy—believed he had. She'd met his father, of course- Brian Williams. She called his dad Brian. Because he hadn't told her.

He wanted to tell her, but he was scared, scared because he didn't want to scare her—and how did you tell your fiancée and friend of fourteen years that you had a family of wizards and witches? That magic was real?

Sure, Amy had had quite a lot of wild, imaginative fancies when they were kids, and there was that whole Imaginary Friend thing he was having trouble picturing exactly- troubling, that his mind already seemed to be going. But that was all they were. Pretend games. He couldn't just spring this on her and completely change how she saw the world.

On the other hand, how could he not tell her? She was going to be his wife! Husbands couldn't keep secrets from wives, could they? And this was _the_ secret.

Could Squibs be held liable for breaking the Statute of Secrecy?

Rory, or Charlie in his younger years, had come to terms with his oddness in comparison to his family. Growing up going to school in Leadworth with Amy and Mels had certainly helped ease any pain once Bill went off to Hogwarts and it really sunk in that he was different from his siblings. He loved his brothers and sister dearly, but there was always going to be that slight disconnect.

That was why when the time had come, he and his father had chosen the absurdly far away country of Romania as the location of Charlie Weasley's 'apprenticeship'. He'd been having a laugh when he told the twins that the cover story was that he was training dragons, but they quickly spread it around to all their friends and it soon became established fact. People always took him seriously when he didn't want them to, like Amy and the guitar.

And that brought him back to his dilemma. What was he going to do about Amy? As it stood now, his family wasn't coming to the wedding. Oh, his mother had cried for a good, solid week.

"My baby's getting married—and I haven't even _met_ her!"

"Amy's a very nice young woman, Molly," his dad had attempted to reassure. They were planning to pretend that a relative—great Auntie Muriel came to mind—had fallen ill and needed looking after, leaving Brian no choice but to miss the wedding.

"I'd rather be her bridesmaid than Headquarters' House-Elf, in that case," Ginny had joked from the doorway, and Rory motioned for her to please be quiet. He'd been well aware of his mum's obsessive need to clean Number 12 Grimmauld Place—Albus Dumbledore had been kind enough to let him in on the secret, so he wouldn't have to worry as much about his family—and he didn't want to cause any more strife.

But it turned out his little sister's teasing had actually helped as his mother had sniffled a little, and said, "Well, I did promise to pick up those schematics from Hestia on the 10th. And we still need to finalize security for getting Harry there." He couldn't help frowning a little at the mention of his youngest brother's famous friend. Harry Potter coming to stay with them right in the midst of the Second Great Wizarding War was hardly a good thing. Did the kid even realize what could happen, the danger his family was putting themselves in just for him?

It was a danger a Squib like him had to escape from. And how could he drag his Muggle bride right into it?

"Well you look stressed," a familiar voice remarked as a weight settled next to him on the bench. Rory was taking his lunch break in the little fenced in park in Leadworth, but had ended up just sitting hunched over with his head in his hands as he internally debated. Now he started in surprise as he looked to his right.

"Mels!"

His friend laughed a little at his shock, but he could see her eyes studying him. "Big day's coming up. Shouldn't you be a bit more excited?"

"Maybe I would be if you'd agreed to be Amy's Maid of Honor," he retorted tiredly. Oh, the row the two female friends had had. While he acknowledged Mels' point that she was likely to have wound up in a cell overnight and unable to make it anyway, it hurt that their best friend—practically their only other friend—wasn't coming to their wedding.

"Oh come on, Rory. You honestly think I'm a wedding person?" She replied with a quirk of her lips. He couldn't help shaking his head, and she chuckled again before sobering. "Now what's the matter?"

"It's nothing, really," he tried to dismiss, but she just continued to stare at him, clearly not convinced. "I mean, it's just…have you ever kept a secret, Mels? A secret about yourself so big, that it would change the way people saw you- the people you care about?"

She was glancing away now, and appeared quite uncomfortable, but he was so wrapped up in his own worries he barely even noticed. "I've kept something—from Amy, and you," he finally spoke when his friend said nothing.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You see, my dad, he's- he's a wizard." There, he'd gotten it off his chest at last. He felt quite relieved about it, actually. It was there, out in the open, at least between him and Mels. And Mels was looking at him with her mouth dropped open.

"What?"

Almost nothing surprised his friend, and he felt almost as if he ought to revel in the moment, but now Rory had to stop her from thinking he was crazy. "I'm serious, Mels. My dad's a wizard. Wizards- magic is real, only I can't do it, so he raised me as a Muggle—er, a non-magical person. That's why I was always away on Sundays; I've got a whole family of wizards and witches, and I would go to see them." He still dropped by as regularly as he could, but it had been hard lately with exams and work. And now that he was older and Bill had gone off to Egypt—returning just this year—it seemed silly to have his dad pop him over to the Burrow every evening. "So, um, yeah. I know it's a bit shocking."

"You don't say," she half-scoffed, shaking her head. "Honestly, if it were anyone else…"

"So you believe me, then?" He had to be sure.

"Yeah, I do," Mels nodded at last as a smile spread across her face. "You two really were destined for each other, you're both mad and impossible."

"I think we're less impossible than you," he returned and they laughed a little bit.

"So then, the secret part," Mels said at last. "I'm guessing you haven't told Amy?" He nodded, feeling ashamed as she tutted. "Well, you're going to have to at some point."

"I know, Mels," he sighed. "I've always been meaning to, but something would come up, and now it's days before our wedding and I'm scared of what she might think and I'm scared she's going to want to check it out and I can't protect her from that," Rory ranted, dropping his head in shame. "I'm useless against magic."

She was silent for a long while. "If you're not ready, I don't think you should tell her. She might not take it well if you're freaking out, too. And it's just your wedding- you've got all those married years to let her know. There's plenty of time," she shrugged, and Rory looked up hopefully.

"You think?"

"All the time in the world," she grinned at him, and he couldn't help sharing one with her. All the time in the world…that felt nice.

OoO

It was the worst year of Rory's life, and he felt like he was sinking slowly in his own despair. He should have known it was coming- hell, he did know it was coming right from that day in Utah.

But the Doctor had given him and Amy one final gift; they'd had time to process it all, to separate witnessing his murder from his death. But when at last he'd heard the familiar _vroop vroop_ fade away for a final time and he'd run out into the street of their new home with the drinks to celebrate, he realized that was it. Their best friend was dead.

Amy had realized it, too. They'd done their best to move on from it and settle into their new lives, like they wanted. His wife had been approached by a photographer and was now in the modeling business. While he would be the first to say that Amelia Jessica Pond Williams was the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet, past or present, he wasn't sure how he felt about her looks being used just to sell a product.

Still, it was better that she actually do something. Just like Rory was throwing himself into work at the hospital to distract himself from the fact that while he was helping and healing all these people, his best friend had marched off to his death and been killed in front of his eyes.

Even with the exhaustion that came from the long hours of his shift, he was still a lighter sleeper than his wife, and so heard the light knocking on their front door early one morning. Stumbling downstairs in his nightclothes, Rory yawned and pulled open the door.

"Dad?" He was shocked. When they'd been waiting for news from the Doctor about Melody, he had gotten a message via Patronus—and he'd been very lucky Amy was in the shower at that moment—that his family had gone into hiding because of the Death Eaters. He couldn't help feeling that the stress from that combined with the burden of tiptoeing around the younger Doctor with the knowledge of his demise had been a decisive factor in the breakdown of their friendship and teamwork and had contributed to his dropping them off when he did. Amy had been sure to keep asking regularly how old the Time Lord was when they met up with him, in some sort of morbid countdown, and the alien had still been some years shy of the mark. They still could have stayed with him.

But now his father was standing on his doorstep—and yet the joy and relief that had been his initial reaction was quickly changing as he took in the older man's appearance. His dad was balding, and graying, and there were deep-set lines on his face. He seemed thinner, smaller somehow. But it was his expression Rory paid the most attention to. Something was very wrong.

"I need you to come with me, Rory, to Hogwarts."

That was all the explanation he received, and he found himself wandering into the large, unfamiliar castle wary and dreading what his purpose was here. The school's grounds had looked like a battlefield on the way in, and the building itself was no different. Large chunks of wall had been blasted to pieces and lay as rubble on the floor. But it was inside the large, long dining hall that his heart stopped.

There were so many bodies, lying still, unmoving. All dead. And there at the end…his family.

He whirled around to see his father gazing at him sadly. "No, please, dad- who—" And Rory was running down the aisle framed by the dead, bursting through the ring of redheads.

"Fred," he breathed in silent horror. "Oh God, Fred." He sunk to his knees beside the cot, joining his brothers and sisters and mother.

"Charlie!" His mum sobbed, throwing her arms around him and he didn't even care she'd used the old name again. He wished, he truly, truly wished he was Charlie, because Charlie Weasley would have done something, would have had some magic cure, would have been useful.

He could only stay an hour, because Amy knew he didn't have work that day and would wonder where he'd gone. And the worst of it was when he returned home, he couldn't seek comfort in his wife. Rory had to pretend that everything was fine—well, as fine as things had been for them lately—because he still hadn't been ready. He hadn't been ready when they'd been married, hadn't been ready once they'd found her again at Demon's Run with their infant child, hadn't even been ready when the Doctor had married their daughter and forgiven her for what she had to do. And now it never would be enough to tell Amy, show her the wonders of the wizarding world, and bring her to family dinners. Because his family wasn't all there.

He'd lost a brother…and a son.

But then, it all changed.

**Ok, so I know I promised this one would be funny…but then I remembered DH angst sort of had to happen. But things are looking up starting next chapter, I promise! Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites, it means a lot! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, so I thought I'd try and get started on the funnier chapters now! Things are looking up, guys. I know I've sort of been jumping forward in time in both Universes, so if you're ever confused, just ask in a review and I'll reply. But to state it plainly, I'm matching the HP events up to Rory's age, meaning that when he is 21, for example, whatever happened in HP when Charlie Weasley was 21 is happening, even though it doesn't match up by the exact year. But this is an AU crossover, so I can do what I want. That being said, thanks so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites everyone, it makes my day! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Three**

Rory couldn't believe it. The Doctor…was alive? His hands were shaking as he retrieved a bottle from their wine cabinet, and he was having slight difficulty working the cork off.

"Need a hand, dad?" It appeared River had followed him inside. Amy was still out on the patio, likely processing the miraculous news their daughter had just shared with them.

"Yeah, actually," he admitted with a shaky laugh, and she took the bottle from him. "It's just- thank you, River. I know we're not supposed to know, but your mother and I—it's been a rough year."

"I know," she replied tipping the bottle into Amy's glass. He had the presence of mind to grab two more, for her and himself.

"A rough year," he repeated, more to himself as he set the glasses on the counter for her, turning and bracing his hands on the smooth edge as he stared unseeing into the sink. "Fred's dead," he couldn't keep the words from tumbling out of his lips. "My brother," he added hastily, glancing back to see her gaze focused steadily on the glasses as she poured. "Sorry, I—did you know him?"

His daughter's eyes darted up to his face briefly. "Spoilers."

"Right," he nodded, his laugh sounding less relieved now and more bitter. It had taken him a short while after their adventure in Berlin for him to realize that the one person he had divulged the secret of his heritage to was in fact his daughter. She was truly the only person he could talk to about any of it. "Fred would've thought me a coward- never introducing him to his niece."

"I doubt that," she disagreed. "But I hope you haven't been dealing with this all on your own, dad."

"I stop in to see them all, once in a while," he informed her, and it was true. But going to the Burrow these days was incredibly painful as his family and their friends tried so hard to make him believe that they were all ok, despite the fact he could tell they weren't. But his magical relations had all suffered through the war together, without his help, and so he felt all the more the outsider.

"I meant mum." He froze, swallowing once before turning to face her stern gaze. "You have to tell her sometime."

"I know," he said hoarsely. "I just don't know how."

"She'll understand," River reassured, somehow reading into his unspoken fears. "She loves you so much, dad. But it's her right to know—they're technically her family, too."

"Well, they really don't know much about Amy, either," he defended weakly. "I mean, nothing about the travelling and space and aliens. You know more than anybody else." His daughter always seemed to know everything. He was beginning to suspect that was a Time Lord prerogative. "Hang on," Rory had a sudden thought, "Does the Doctor know?"

River Song was well known for her poker face, but under her dad's questioning gaze she bit her lip uncomfortably and looked away. Oh. They were in the same predicament then; he hadn't told his wife, and she hadn't told her husband.

"It's hard for me to gauge when he knows," she admitted. "Sometimes he does, but it's always a future version of him. I think it best that you tell them both, at the same time."

"I suppose that makes sense," he agreed grudgingly, acknowledging in his mind that it really was his responsibility at any rate. "And Amy would be really upset if she found out last. But," and here he couldn't help a smile from coming to his face, "does that mean he'll come back to us?"

"Spoilers," she said again, but the slight upward quirk of her lips gave him hope.

"Oi, are you two in there finishing the bottle without me?" Amy's voice rang out from the back lawn, and they both chuckled.

"We would never, mum," River called back, heading outside with two of the glasses. Rory grabbed up his own from the counter and joined his wife and daughter.

He could do this. He could keep going. Things weren't so bad. And someday, he'd find the courage to reveal all the things he'd hidden these long years.

OoO

He watched nervously as his father paced up and down the room, seeming unable to contain his astonishment. Finally, he tentatively asked, "Is something wrong, dad?"

"Wrong? No, no, of course not Rory, I'm just trying to understand—a spaceship! We were travelling in a spaceship!" Arthur Weasley paused briefly in his ranting, allowing Rory to interject.

"Well, it's a spaceship-time machine, really, but…yeah."

"And you've been travelling in it with Amy- and- and this Doctor?" At Rory's nod, his father dropped into one of their kitchen table's chairs, apparently struggling to truly grasp it. "For how long?"

"Um, a while, actually," was his vague answer. While he hadn't told Amy about his family, he also hadn't told his family about the Doctor and time travel. He'd felt that would be fair. But when the Doctor had materialized around them and brought 'Brian Pond' along for the ride, he'd unknowingly shattered the invisible barrier. Trust his mad, impossible friend to do so.

"All this time…but you're a nurse. You're a Muggle nurse!"

"I know. I can be both, dad," he reasoned. "You know, just like I can be a nurse and have a sister who flies around on a broom for a living."

"I just- I never realized—"

"Muggles aren't just boring, normal people who go to work day in and day out, dad," he couldn't keep from pointing out somewhat irritably. Perhaps this was why he hadn't shared this part of his life with his magical family. Rory was always seen as the mundane one, the one who never got in trouble and had his nice, peaceful life. Well, most days he was running for his life, thank you very much.

His father, meanwhile, was watching him guiltily. "Yes…you're right. I'm sorry, Rory, I just- I never thought—"

"I'm not angry, dad," Rory sighed, dropping into the chair across from him. "This is my life, and I chose to keep it from you. You and mum and everyone, you had enough to worry about already."

"That may have been true," his father acknowledged with a frown, "But, your life is just as important to me, and your mother and your siblings. We should have paid more attention."

"I think we're both at fault here," he finally attempted to compromise, and the older man nodded.

"I'm glad I know now, though," Arthur spoke after a moment. "The whole, time Rory I was amazed at what you could do. What you and Amy were able to do without a single bit of magic! And your friend, he's quite remarkable if, er, eccentric."

"Well, um, thanks," he replied, feeling both pleased and a little embarrassed by his dad's praise. It was something he hadn't expected.

"I'm sure your mother would be proud, as well, if she'd been there." Rory tried and failed to picture his mum on spaceship with dinosaurs. "But, I think…now that I know just what you and Amy consider normal, and with the way things have been settling down in the wizarding world," his father began, and Rory shifted uncomfortably.

"Amy still doesn't know," he told him.

"Yes, but- it would mean so much to everyone if—we've learned the hard way to hold on to as much family as we can," his dad finished solemnly, unable to truly articulate what he meant. But Rory still understood.

It was time.

OoO

They'd just raced breathlessly back into the TARDIS, the Doctor sprinting to the console to send them spinning off into the Vortex once again, and Amy and Rory were catching their breath on the steps, watching their mad friend work the controls, spinning about himself every so often.

"So, that could have gone better," the Time Lord was summarizing, and Amy scoffed beside him. "Alright, it could have gone _much_ better, does that satisfy you, Pond?"

"I suppose," his wife returned, rising and heading for the corridor. "I think I'll go get some rest, maybe wash up."

Rory nodded, watching her leave before turning around to see the Doctor's eyes also on him and the open archway Amy just walked through. "Doctor?"

The alien started, looking down to fiddle with a switch on the console. "Sorry, Rory, just dozed off for a minute there." He couldn't think of anything to say in response, so they remained in silence for a time. "How's Brian, by the way?" His friend asked casually, but it caused him to tense up. He still hadn't broached the topic of his father—his father's real identity—with either the Doctor or Amy yet.

"Oh, fine."

"I know I never really asked before, but I'm glad I met your father, Rory," his friend continued, going around to the other side of the console. "Let's see—Brian, Augustus, Tabetha, Aunt Sharon, and of course River. Yes, I think that covers it; I've met the Ponds." Rory could only squirm uncomfortably as the other male babbled, oblivious to his discomfort.

"You know, I think- I think I might go get some sleep, too, Doctor," he excused himself at last, unable to sit there in silence anymore. The Time Lord poked his head around the Time Rotor to look at him in concern.

"Well, alright, if you're tired that's certainly the best plan. I'll be here if you two need anything." Rory made no reply, instead hurrying down the corridor to the room he and his wife shared onboard. He couldn't keep living with this guilt anymore.

Amy was relaxing on top of the covers and had kicked her shoes off to leave them laying on the floor next to the bed, so she turned her head to look as he came through the door. "Someone looks bothered. Was he going on about nonsense again?"

"No," he replied, standing uncertainly before her. Now that he was here and had decided that this was it, he had no idea how to begin. Amy patted the empty space on the bed, so the nurse untied his shoes and placed them neatly on the floor, dropping down on top of the covers. "He was just asking about dad, really."

"Oh," she remarked, yawning once. "I was pretty worried when we brought Brian with us, but he got used to it pretty quick. And I think it was good for you two." Was the universe just trying to make him feel as horrid and ashamed as possible?

"Um, yeah. Listen, Amy…my dad, he was sort of able to get used to it for a reason." When he rolled onto his side to face her, she did so as well, quirking a curious eyebrow. "See, er, he's- he's…a wizard."

He'd chickened out at the end, practically muttering the last two words, but his wife still sat up in bed, looking down at him in disbelief.

"What?"

Rory sat up as well, reaching out slowly and placing his hands on her shoulders. "Amy, my dad's a wizard. He's magical."

Her mouth dropped open as she stared with wide eyes for a long stretch of time. He thought she was likely trying to decide whether he was joking with her or not. He merely met her stare, waiting it out, not speaking until she brought a hand to his forehead.

"Amy," he said in growing worry.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" She interrupted him in concern. "Didn't catch some weird space-virus or something?"

"No, of course not—"

"You're warm," his wife decided for herself, pushing him down onto the bed and yanking her shoes on. "Listen, I'll be right back—"

"Amy, please, I just need you to listen—"

"So just try and get some rest while we figure out what's wrong," she ordered, backing out of their room. He heard her running footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"Oh, don't get the—"

"Doctor!"

He had to wait less than fifteen seconds before the two burst through the door together, Amy clearly in near-panic and the Doctor brandishing the sonic.

"Guys," he groaned, as the Time Lord began scanning him up and down while his wife looked on anxious for some sort of explanation for the dreadful disease he supposedly had.

"Nothing," the alien announced after a moment, looking perplexed and even frustrated. "Are you sure he's even ill, Pond?"

"But he's delirious!" She protested, not willing to accept the idea she was wrong.

"I'm not," he countered, feeling a bit annoyed as they seemed to be perfectly fine having a conversation about him without him while he was right in front of them.

"Well, what else am I supposed to think when you start going on about magic?" She retorted, but the Doctor glanced back and forth between them in alarm.

"Magic?" He repeated, and when Amy nodded their friend frowned. "What exactly did you say, Rory?"

He sighed, realizing that he would have had to tell the Doctor at some point anyway, and that it was best to do so now that they were both here. "I said that my dad is a wizard. Because he is." Amy gave him that same bewildered, nervous look, but the Doctor's eyes widened.

"Oh. _Oh._ Oh, of course!"

Rory blinked. "Of course?" He had been expecting the scientific alien's response to be more in line with Amy.

"Yes," the other grumbled, though the anger seemed to be directed internally as he ran a hand through his wild hair and turned away, walking about the room as he often did when agitated. "Oh, stupid Doctor, I should've known it the moment you stepped in the TARDIS—you read up on science magazines? Ha! Bigger on the inside's not really a novelty with you wizard-folk."

"Doctor, what are you talking about?" Amy asked, perched on the edge of the bed and looking between her husband and friend with growing confusion.

"On Earth, Amy, you have the human race," the Doctor began, and he was honestly more than happy to allow the over one millennium Time Lord to explain it. He obviously wasn't doing so well. "But there are certain humans that are born with an inherent ability—mostly through genetics, evolution, and an incident hundreds of years ago on the thirty-sixth of February—"

"Doctor, there is no thirty-sixth of February."

"Exactly, Pond," the mad man agreed, raising a finger up to keep her from responding as he continued. "But, these humans are born with the ability to manipulate energy and matter. This has come to be regarded by them as something called 'magic'."

"So, what, like witches and wizards stirring cauldrons and taking joyrides on brooms?" She inquired, seeming to be torn between shock and incredulous laughter.

"More or less," the alien shrugged.

"Then how have the rest of us not noticed?" She exclaimed, clearly thinking she had found the hole in her husband and friend's story.

"Ah, but you did! The Witch Trials, Amy—a reaction of fear to something that couldn't be understood. You humans are such amazing creatures, but it was simply much too early. So, the wizards and witches of the day passed the Statute of Secrecy, decreeing that all magical peoples had to hide their abilities from non-magicals. And, as wizard politics are slow, stubborn, and often pointless nothing has changed. Most wizards live in isolation these days, never meeting their non-magical counterparts, except…" Here the Time Lord spun slowly on his heel to face Rory, his expression considering.

"I'm a Squib," he supplied with a sigh, and the Doctor's eyes lit up in understanding.

"Ah, I see," he nodded.

"_I_ don't," his wife cut in, and Amy was fast approaching annoyed. "You two were going on about wizards, what's that got to do with squids?"

He tried. He tried so hard, knowing how life-altering this was for the woman he loved. But he met the Doctor's eye, and the two promptly burst out laughing.

"Will you two quit it? Are you having one over on me or what?" She grumbled, and Rory worked to get back under control, reaching out for his wife's hands and grasping them in between his own. Their alien friend had managed to reduce his own laughter to the occasional chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Amy, I'm really, really sorry," he told her, sobering as he looked directly into her eyes. "I know this is sudden, and I really should have told you way before this, but I just- I didn't know how. I mean, I'm a Squib, so I can't do magic, but my family can. I was always too scared to let you know and- and I kept you from them. I'm so—"

"Oh, shut up, stupid face," his wife rolled her eyes and leaned in, effectively silencing him with her lips for a moment. They kept it short, just managing to stay aware of the alien looking away and tugging uncomfortably at his bowtie. "Yeah, I wasn't really expecting, well, _magic_, but honestly? Sexy fish vampires," Amy nodded to herself in explanation.

"Sexy fish vampires," he agreed with another chuckle.

"Sexy fish vampires!" The Doctor chimed in, throwing his arms up enthusiastically, and the three friends all laughed together. Rory realized now that his worries had been completely unfounded; after all the things they'd faced together across time and space, magic was just a walk in the park.

"But, Rory," Amy said slowly after they all had ceased laughing. "You said _them_ when talking about your family." His wife truly was very sharp, and the Time Lord nodded along with her, probably always having noticed his use of the plural pronoun.

"Er, yeah," he hedged. This was where he _really_ had to explain himself. "You see, my family—it's not just me and dad."

"Oh?" She said simply, raising an eyebrow yet again at this new development.

At his nod, he heard the Doctor mutter, "Blimey, you Ponds keep popping up like rabbits!"

The alien had no idea.

**Ok, so I'm stopping there for now. Next chapter will be Rory revealing the existence of the Weasleys! Thanks again for all the feedback so far, guys, it means a lot. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, you guys really like this story. I'm glad my weird ideas have been so well-received. The Sexy Fish Vampires reference at the end, however, was a brilliant suggestion made by my sister. But now, on to the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Four**

"So, where do you two want to go next?" The Doctor inquired as soon as they emerged from the corridor. They knew he probably already had some place in mind, but Rory let Amy take the lead as she stepped forward.

"Actually Doctor, Rory and I were talking," his wife started. "And now that I know about, well, everything—I want to meet them."

"Meet who?" He asked, clearly not comprehending.

Amy rolled her eyes. "His _family_, Doctor. My family."

"Oh. _Oh_. Family! Yes, Rory's family. The wizards," their friend realized and she nodded along in encouragement or praise. "Right. Is that, er, alright with you, Rory?" The Time Lord glanced at him uncertainly.

"Of course," he answered promptly. "I mean, the only reason I kept it secret was because of the whole magic thing. Now that you know, I want you to meet them. I want them to meet my wife." She smiled tenderly at him and took his hand as they joined the alien at the controls.

"Right then," the Doctor said, flipping a switch. "Forget the Outer Spheres of Portuna Phi—we've got to get Amy Pond to her in-laws. Mind giving me a location, Mr. Pond?"

"Uh, well, we call it the Burrow," he offered, not entirely sure what the pilot required for coordinates.

The other male's face scrunched up as if in distaste. "Well that's not a lot to go off of."

"It's outside of Ottery St. Catchpole—" he tried, but suddenly several keys on the typewriter pressed down and a lever flew up of its own accord. The whole ship jerked and Rory had the sense to grab hold of something as the Doctor was thrown back against the railing, wholly unprepared for the takeoff.

"Where are we going?" Amy demanded.

"I can't very well see from over here, can I?" The Time Lord replied irritably. The poor man was thrown about like a ragdoll as they gripped the console, helpless. At last it stopped and Rory looked to the monitor.

"Stormcage?" He read aloud bewildered.

"What?" The Doctor poked his head up from the lower level, where he'd landed after tumbling down the stairs, and checked for himself. "Oh, bloody hell."

Sirens started outside and they heard his footsteps on the stairs. He emerged, charging for the door and Amy asked "Where are you going?"

"Got to get her out before the guards show up!" He called over his shoulder, pulling open the door and darting out into the prison. They picked up the whir of the sonic and his rushed greeting, "River, no time to explain—why are you asleep, we've got to move!"

He returned carrying their rather sleepy daughter and kicked the door shut. "Doctor, what?" The curly-haired woman yawned. "I just got back from—oof!"

He'd dumped her unceremoniously in the pilot's chair and continued on to the controls. "Spoilers, dear," he chided, relaxing finally as he returned them to the Vortex. "Now then, Dr. Song, when are we for you?"

She stared at him rather blankly before stating flatly, "Our honeymoon."

The Doctor turned rather red and gulped, very pointedly not glancing at them. Rory choked on air and Amy snickered. River turned in some puzzlement towards them.

"Mum, dad, what are you doing here?" She spun back in the chair and addressed her husband, who was fidgeting more than Rory had ever seen him do so, tugging nervously at his bowtie. "Just when are we for _you_?"

"Ah, spoilers, River, lots of spoilers."

"You weren't kidding when you said we're mixed up," she remarked, and it struck the nurse how much younger this version of his daughter sounded than the ones he was used to. He had to wonder if the TARDIS had taken them to Stormcage at this exact moment for a reason. Some other reason than embarrassing her pilot.

"We are," the Time Lord was agreeing, edging around to the other side of the console as the archeologist followed with a growing smirk.

"So I never know which one I'll get? That'll keep things fresh."

"Ok, you've tortured him enough, newlywed," Amy finally saved the poor alien, walking around and hugging their daughter. "Save that for when we're not around, yeah?"

"Of course, mum," River promised with a laugh that the redhead shared. Rory, clearing his throat, felt the tension had eased enough that he could join them, and his daughter embraced him as well. "So then, what are we up to today?"

Amy's eyes darted to him, biting her lip as she answered, "Well, see, there's something about your father that—"

But Rory scratched at the back of his neck in shame as he interrupted. "She already knows, Amy."

"She does?" His wife asked incredulously, and couldn't seem to help the hurt that entered her tone. He sighed, as this was exactly the reaction he didn't want, but most certainly deserved.

"It was a couple days before our wedding and I didn't know if I should—I was scared. So I sort of confided in Mels…who ended up being our daughter, so that worked out pretty nice."

Amy sighed herself, shaking her head. "You didn't have to be scared of me, stupid face," she scolded, and he ducked his head. "But it figures you'd accidentally tell our daughter she's got a half-magic family." He looked back up and tentatively smiled back at her teasing grin.

Their daughter, meanwhile, was glancing at something over their heads as she said, "Are you planning on staring at me with that face all day, Doctor?"

When he looked for himself, he saw that his friend's eyes were indeed on his daughter, but they were wide, his face pale, and his mouth had dropped open.

"Um, Doctor? Are you ok?"

The Time Lord raised his hand slowly, pointing a finger. "Rory, your parents—Brian is a wizard."

"Er, yes," he agreed, a bit worried. He was pretty sure the Doctor had grasped that just fine, better than Amy at first.

"And your mother is a witch."

"Yep."

"And River is _your_ daughter."

"Yeah, bit of a shocker, but I think we covered that with you a couple hundred years ago," Amy piped up, seeming to share in his concern.

"But that- River you're—you're half-magic!" He positively gaped, but their daughter merely shrugged.

"Took a bit of getting used to when dad accidentally told me, but yes I have magical heritage."

"You're a part-human part-Time Lord part-witch!"

Rory had to blink at that. The blonde archeologist really was quite the impossible woman. And yet he'd never even thought about the effects his unique family legacy might have on his daughter.

It was then that he realized. He realized that yes, there was a specific reason the TARDIS had taken them to this version of River Song. Because this young woman had never met his full entire family, just like Amy, and if he was truly going to combine both sides of his life he was going to have to do so completely.

River, meanwhile, had sauntered over to her husband, and seemed to take great delight in the shock that she was causing him. A feeling that would not go away with age, he knew, as the archeologist would go on to leave the genius bewildered and baffled at nearly every turn. "You're quite right. But really, I think this only makes everything easier to understand, Doctor. After all, I'd say I'm rather enchanting, wouldn't you agree?"

This left the alien struggling to find something to say in response, flailing wildly. "Well that's- you- not even the point—you never even told me!"

Oh, yet another thing Rory hadn't considered; secrets were already quite the touchy subject between these two. His silence had only added to the things they kept from each other.

River, for her part, pouted, a strange expression on the normally composed woman's face. "Well, think of it like those _spoilers_ you go on about. Only it was dad's spoiler. Really, dear, you can't expect me to go telling my father's secrets to just anyone."

The other man, however, seemed more than a bit insulted by this explanation. "I would hope I'm more than 'just anyone' to you, River. We are married."

A giddy sort of grin broke out on his daughter's face, and he exchanged a fond smile with Amy. Their little girl was young and in love and newly married. It wasn't a side of her they often got to see.

The Doctor had shuffled a few paces away and was fiddling with some knob on the console, though Rory suspected it wasn't actually necessary. River schooled her features and approached the Time Lord, touching him lightly on the arm.

"Well of course you're not 'just anyone', Sweetie. But, you have to admit I haven't had much opportunity to tell you." She bit her lip a moment, a sudden bout of nerves seeming to overtake her. "It doesn't bother you that I'm half-magic, does it?"

Forgetting that he was sulking in favor of alleviating her worries, their friend actually turned to her. "No. I just like to have an idea of what I'm getting into beforehand. Magic is a bit of a…well a blind spot where Time Lords are concerned."

"Really?" Amy asked in interest. It wasn't often they learned of any short-comings of their friend's species. And Rory thought he understood now why the other man was having more difficulty than Amy in getting over this. The mad genius who knew everything, of course he would become distressed upon the discovery that he was unaware of his wife's full birthright.

"We were a very scientific-based people, Pond. That's what really made the Carrionites so dangerous to us—different type of magic-users, not like Rory's family. Really it's quite remarkable that you're both, River. I know Rory's a Squib, but…can you use magic?" He seemed both excited and wary at the prospect.

"Haven't had much of a chance to find out," she confessed freely, yet Rory caught himself wondering just how they might go about finding out. After all, he was a Squib, but he had quite a lot of magic 'blood' in him, as his father's purist opponents often put it.

"Hm, something to look into, I suppose," the Time Lord was musing, and it did appear that he was approaching the issue as a scientist might a new, potentially dangerous experiment.

"Yes," River agreed, "but as for right now, me being half-magic doesn't really change anything. See?" Her husband nodded once and their daughter continued in a satisfied way, "so there's really no need to be upset. Mum's taking it rather well in comparison."

"I'm sort of used to being surprised," Amy pointed out helpfully. "But River's right, Doctor—she and Rory our still our spouses, yeah? So they have magic relatives; it doesn't change them."

The other man gave a wry smile in reply. "Right as always, Amy." He still looked a tad uneasy, though.

River took both his hands in hers and looked him directly in the eye. "I'm sorry if you feel hurt, my love. But I promise that I never lied to you. And I have never used any sort of magic in my life, and certainly not on you." He relaxed finally and returned her warm smile. The curly-haired woman stood up on her toes, as she was in prison clothes and not heels, and kissed him quickly on the lips. When she pulled back, however, there was a wicked smirk spreading across her face. "But the mind, Doctor…it races."

The Time Lord audibly gulped and Amy once again had to come to his rescue. "Oi, what did I say about the torture? At this rate we're never going to get to Rory's parents' house."

River spun about to face them, her face alight with interest. "Is that where we're going? That sounds exciting."

"I mean, as exciting as Sunday dinner is with my family, I guess," he said with a bemused smile.

"Sunday?" The Doctor complained, but sighed in defeat when Rory looked at him. "Sunday dinner outside of Ottery St. Catchpole it is, I suppose."

As the pilot began steering them off, the nurse clarified, "It's the time when all of them will be there, so we might as well go then." But as he glanced back at his wife, the redheaded woman had a somewhat anxious expression.

"Rory," she started hesitantly. "Um, when you say 'all of them'- how many do you mean?"

"Er…" he trailed, abruptly realizing just how big of a shift this was going to be for her. "My parents, and my five siblings, my sister-in-law, my one brother's girlfriend, and my sister's boyfriend." It wasn't just Amy who was staring with wide eyes. "It's a lot, I know."

"Yeah," she agreed dazedly, going to sit in the pilot's chair. "Yeah, it is. My husband went from being an only child to one in _six_."

He felt that familiar lump in his throat as he quietly amended, "I used to be one in seven."

"What do you—" the Scottish woman began before she gave a sharp intake of breath and looked at him in dismay. "Oh Rory, what happened?" River stood beside her mother and the Doctor even took his attention off the controls, looking at him sadly.

His gaze dropped to his toes as he said, "There was a war in the wizarding world, and he was killed. He wasn't even twenty." A pair of warm, familiar arms encircled him and he relaxed into Amy's embrace, seeking and receiving the comfort he craved. "I'm sorry," he muttered into her hair.

"Nothing to apologize for." There was a pause and he could almost hear the internal debate. "What was his name?"

"Fred," he breathed. They stayed like that a while, no one moving or talking in the stillness. "His name was Fred Weasley."

"Weasley?" The Doctor piped up, though quieter than he might have otherwise due to the serious topic they were discussing. "Why not—"

"Because my real name isn't Williams," he told them, bracing himself as Amy pulled back to look at him in surprise. Trust the mad genius to pick up on all the details. "Well, my birth name, that is. I mean, I think of myself as Rory Williams, but my name before that was Charlie Weasley."

"Charlie…" Amy murmured out, seeming to be testing the name out as she gazed at him contemplatively. "I don't have to call you that, do I?"

"Of course not," he said, wrinkling his nose a bit. "Why would you?"

"Well, I don't know. I mean, does your family call you Charlie? What do they all do for a living, besides being magical? Do they live with non-magic people like Brian? Is Brian even _Brian_?" His wife was entering panic mode as question after question tumbled out of her lips. "Are they going to like me? Are they going to like River?"

He struggled to find the right words to say to answer all her questions, but the Doctor beat him to the punch. "Well, I should hope so…because we've just arrived."

**Hate to end it there, but the actual meeting of the two halves of Rory's family deserves its own chapter. At any rate, I hope that this was entertaining, thanks for reading and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for all the late updates recently, my real life schedule's been pretty hectic. This is the big one guys, so without further ado, thanks once again for all the terrific feedback and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Five**

Rory took hold of his wife's hand, briefly giving it a squeeze before letting go and walking down to the door. Pulling it open he poked his head out to a familiar sight.

"This is it," he called back to them before stepping out fully. The TARDIS had landed on his family's front lawn, a little ways from the house, and so he shielded his eyes as he raised his head to take in the entire towering structure.

"It's not much of a Burrow, then, is it?" The Doctor's voice questioned from behind, and he turned to see his friend leaning out of the doors and looking around. He was shoved unceremoniously out of the way as Amy pushed past to get her own look at their destination.

"Woah," she breathed, looking up just as he had. "How's it standing up? Is it magic, too?"

He blinked, glancing back once again at the haphazardly stacked floors, only now realizing how much even he, a Squib, had taken for granted. "Er, yeah. There's enchantments on the building to hold it up."

Of course the curious Scottish woman did not dwell too long on that as her eyes darted this way and that to take everything in. "Is that a henhouse? You've got chickens, Rory!"

"Yeah, we keep a couple," he agreed, unable to help the smile spreading on his face at the sight of her excited exploration.

"And quite the garden," River remarked, joining the two of them. "If that is supposed to be a garden."

"Oh, well, mum knows where everything is in it, even if we don't," he laughed a little, "At least when the Gnomes haven't overrun it."

"Wait, you have real Gnomes?" Amy asked. "Like, real, living Gnomes?" He nodded and she gave an incredulous laugh of her own. "What else?"

"Curious relatives, that's for certain," their daughter answered for him, nodding to the front door. Rory turned to look at what she had pointed out and saw his mother and Ginny standing in the open doorway, observing their little group with no small amount of confusion.

"Oh, um, just wait here a minute," he instructed, half-jogging up the dirt path to the second mother-daughter pair. "Hey mum, Ginny," he greeted, trying to keep as casual as possible. "Here for Sunday dinner."

"Rory, dear," his mother stepped forward and pulled him into one of her crushing hugs. "How nice. It's been ages since you've been able to stop by; you know, I think that hospital is working you too hard."

"I take whatever shifts they need filled, mum," he reminded with just a hint of exasperation. They always had to go through this routine each time he visited.

"Speaking of 'they'," Ginny interrupted, redirecting the conversation as his mother released him, "who are your friends?"

"Oh. Uh, well," he stammered, suddenly unsure how he wanted to approach this. Telling his fiery yet largely unflappable wife he had a whole entire family was one thing, but introducing his wife to his mother? That was another thing entirely. He looked back over his shoulder to see Amy and River standing close together, talking quietly and obviously watching.

"Molly dear, Ginny, who is it?" His father's voice asked, and he looked back to see the older man making his way down the front hall. He smiled back in greeting as Ginny spoke.

"Just Rory, dad, but he brought a couple ladies," she waggled her eyes at that, but his mother's eyes widened with a dawning realization that only seemed to grow as Arthur raised a hand and waved to the redhead waiting on the lawn.

"Rory, why is—" he started, but the Weasley matriarch cut him off.

"Oh my—is that her? Arthur, is it _her_?"

"Amy and I talked," the nurse stated plainly, deciding to just put everyone on the same page. "And I told her about everything. About magic, about you all—and she wanted to meet you. So here we are." His mother was now on her toes peering over his shoulder to get a good look.

"She certainly is pretty isn't she? Set some more places at the table, Ginny."

"Sure mum," the youngest of the Weasley clan agreed, grinning at him before hurrying back to the kitchen, likely telling all the others who had _finally_ come to dinner. He began bracing himself for the onslaught of questions and no doubt embarrassing stories about to be revealed.

"I wish you'd Floo'd ahead or something, dear, I would've made more food," his mother was saying now.

"I'm sure there's plenty. And, er, I'm not part of the Floo Network, mum."

"And the house—it's such a mess, how embarrassing," she continued to fret and he simply shook his head. "Not that we don't want you to come for dinner, but first impressions are important, Rory."

"Did the Doctor bring you?" His father got his own question out at last, nodding at the blue police box sitting at the edge of the lawn.

"The who?" His mother demanded in bafflement.

"Yeah," he answered, glancing back and frowning slightly. Amy and River were still talking to each other and looking around his old home, but the Doctor had not joined them. In fact, the doors of the TARDIS were now closed, and unless the alien had wandered around the house to investigate he was still inside. "Listen, I'm going to bring them to the house now—and I'm sure it looks fine, mum." That said, Rory returned to his wife and daughter.

"So?" Amy inquired as soon as he was within hearing range.

"We're just in time for dinner," he replied simply, knowing this would reassure her. "Ginny's setting some extra plates—she's my sister—but, er, where's—"

"The Doctor?" River finished for him with a knowing look. "In the TARDIS."

"Doctor?" He called uncertainly, and after a moment, the door opened and his friend's head stuck out.

"Yes? Something you need, Rory?"

"What are you doing?" He decided to make it as blunt as possible. Still, the Time Lord's brows furrowed.

"Well, I thought it'd be best if I waited- let you Ponds and Weasleys have your dinner-thing…or not," the other male trailed off at the end as all three Ponds shook their heads.

"As you so eloquently pointed out earlier, Sweetie, we're married," River stated.

"So get out here, you're meeting them, too," Amy added, marching forward and yanking him over the threshold by the arm.

"Oh, I am?" He seemed rather alarmed at the prospect, tugging on his collar with his free hand as Amy dragged him forward. "I hadn't really thought- not sure that's a great idea- don't really do family dinners."

"You had Christmas dinner with us last year," Rory pointed out.

"Well, yes," he conceded, giving a nervous laugh, "But you're Ponds. It's different."

"If Rory's Mr. Pond, then that just makes them more Ponds," Amy reasoned, releasing his arm finally. "Look, Doctor, if you don't want to, you don't have to. But I'm just as scared as you are, yeah? So if I'm doing it, it can't be that bad."

"You already know my dad," Rory added as well, "So that's one down, sort of."

"It'll be more exciting than sitting in the TARDIS for a few hours, dear," River said, and at last the Doctor sighed, nodding his head.

"Yes, yes, you're all right. Ok then, family dinner. Can't be so bad. Lead on, Mr. Pond," he swept his arm towards the house and Rory took up the lead, once more heading up the path to where his parents both waited.

"Right, well, you already know dad," he started, looking from one group to the other. "This is my mum. Mum, this is Amy, River Song, and the Doctor."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs.—er—Weasley," Amy greeted, holding her hand out. His mother, of course, merely opened her arms and enveloped the younger redhead in a hug.

"Oh, it's Molly at least, my dear. I'm so happy to finally meet you—Arthur and Rory have told us so much about you."

"Arthur…?" His wife repeated as she stepped back before her eyes landed on his father. "Oh- right. And to think I've been calling you Brian this whole time," she half-joked, and the older male chuckled along with her.

"You can keep calling me Brian, if you like. Amy, we're so happy to have you in our home," his father smiled and hugged her as well. He then turned to the Doctor and offered his hand, which the Time Lord shook. "Good to see you again, Doctor."

"And you, Brian."

"Are these two friends of yours?" His mother asked him, indicating the alien and his daughter. Rory and Amy exchanged a look.

"Er…in a way," he hedged, not sure this was a conversation for their front stoop.

"Well come in, come in, the more the merrier!" They all followed her inside and he heard her remark, "I don't remember that blue box being outside- did you bring that home from work, Arthur?"

"No dear, it's—"

"I'll just have Bill move it after dinner, it's a bit unsightly, don't you think?"

"I'd really rather you didn't, ma'am," the Doctor piped up from the back, but it was likely she didn't even hear him as she'd entered the kitchen. Rory felt Amy's hand slip into his as they went in as well.

His siblings and their significant others, in some cases, were all sitting around a long table, and everyone looked up as they came in. A grin came to Bill's face almost instantly and his older brother leaned to the side to whisper something in his incredibly beautiful wife's ear. Percy was studying each new arrival with interest and nodded at him in silent greeting. George gave a little wave, Ron swallowed down a mouthful of food before beginning to talk quietly with an obviously curious Hermione Granger, while Ginny and Harry Potter himself listened in.

Arthur, or Brian depending on perspective, cleared his throat. "Everyone, Rory has brought a very important guest to dinner." Amy shifted a bit on her feet under the scrutiny, as it was clear she was the indicated very important guest, and Rory stepped forward.

"Um, well, I'd like you all to meet my wife, Amy," he introduced, and instantly the noise level exploded. Bill and Fleur were the first to approach, and his older brother greeted the Scottish woman warmly.

"Glad to meet you at last, Amy. I'm Bill, the eldest of this motley crew you see here. This is my wife, Fleur."

"Roree was ze best man at our wedding. I am 'appy to meet ze source of 'is own 'appiness."

"Thank you," the redhead among redheads responded, and it did not escape his notice just how well Amy fit in here.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Percy," his younger brother introduced as Bill and Fleur moved on to River and the Doctor.

"Just 'the Doctor', mate?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Doctor- zat eez a Muggle term, eez eet not?"

"Well hello there, I'm George. Good to see Rory's decided to stop being all mysterious," his second-youngest brother welcomed. "How about we offer this lovely lady and her friends a seat instead of making them stand around all day? Budge up, Ron."

"There's plenty of room," the youngest Weasley male rolled his eyes, but scooted down, and Rory soon found himself smushed between Ron and Amy, with George on the other side of his wife. River slid into a seat neatly next to the one-eared man, and began making up two plates of food, one presumably for her husband who was still chatting with his ponytailed brother, though they had wandered past and now stood before the highchair occupied by young Victoire.

"She's starting to eat more solid foods every day," the proud father was telling the Time Lord as his friend crouched down to get eye level with the baby.

"Well that's good; she thinks the baby food tastes rubbish."

"What?" Fleur asked, perplexed.

Rory leaned back in his chair as Ron reached a hand across to shake Amy's. "I'm Ron, good to meet you. This is Hermione."

"Thanks, good to meet you both," his wife replied with a little laugh, clearly overwhelmed.

Hermione smiled, though she seemed to share somewhat in Amy's sentiment. "I didn't even know Charlie- sorry, Rory -was married."

"Well, yeah, I am," he replied, sighing before continuing, "And I don't actually live in Romania, either." The way everyone else in the family talked, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were going to be new additions sometime in the near future, so they might as well get the whole story.

"Wait- you don't?" Harry asked, looking shocked.

"Nope. I'm just a nurse at a hospital," he revealed, starting in on his food so that he missed the baffled looks being sent between the so-called Golden Trio.

"But, the dragons—" Hermione protested.

"Just a cover story," he dismissed. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and turned to see the Doctor standing behind him, his other hand placed on Amy's.

"Sounds like an exciting one. I have to admit, Rory, I've always wanted to get a good look at a dragon. What do you two say?"

"Of course you want to see dragons," Amy rolled her eyes. "I'll bet you're all excited we can travel to all the dangerous magical places, too."

Rory chuckled a bit, but his laughter slowly died down as he looked up and saw the table's only raven-haired occupant studying the Time Lord.

"But, you- I remember—it had to be you! I mean, you look exactly the same, but I swear you—"

"Best not to worry about it, Harry," the alien interrupted, flashing a smile before sitting down next to River at last. "My, this does look delicious!"

"Oh, thank you," his mother said from down the table, turning away to pick up her conversation with his father.

"I can't help but be curious," Percy spoke up across the table, "But what exactly do you mean by 'travelling to dangerous places'?"

"Er…" Rory looked at his wife, then at the Doctor and his daughter. "That's what we do in our free time. We travel."

"And how is that dangerous?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, we never intend it to be that way, it just sort of…happens." He trailed off at the end as he realized the whole table had gone completely quiet.

"Dangerous?" His mother repeated the word and he couldn't hide his wince.

"Only a little," he offered somewhat lamely, knowing how futile it was. As he predicted, Molly Weasley began to panic.

"Well what sort of danger? How can being a Muggle Healer be dangerous? Why do you come into danger?"

Rory was at a loss to explain in satisfactory terms, still unsure of just what he was going to tell his family and how, but he was not the one who spoke. "I'm afraid that's my fault, ma'am." The Doctor's gaze was downcast and almost ashamed. "That blue box on your lawn, it's mine; I use it as transport, and sometimes Amy and Rory come with me. And then something dangerous always happens." He was wringing his hands together in his lap and still had not looked anyone in the eye.

"Well, yeah," Rory agreed, and then added, "Except the bit about it being his fault."

The Doctor's head snapped up and he opened his mouth as though to protest, but River laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't argue, Sweetie; if they don't blame you, they don't blame you."

"I'm not sure I agree," his mother stated, her cheeks beginning to redden, and several of his siblings cringed in preparation for the verbal assault about to befall the Time Lord. But the eldest Weasley woman was interrupted by her own spouse.

"I do," his father spoke calmly, and she turned to him agape.

"Arthur!"

"I've seen what the Doctor does- what Amy and Rory do, Molly. And yes, it isn't always the safest environment, but he does not intentionally lead people into danger. Because of him, my eyes have been opened to the unbelievable things our son _can_ do, and not what he can't. And that is an incredible gift."

"But- but—"

"If you have to be angry at anyone, Molly, it's me," Amy suddenly said, and both he and the Doctor turned to her, stunned. "If I wasn't married to Rory, he wouldn't be travelling through time and space in a box."

"But it was _my_ choice in the end," he broke in firmly, wanting to make this clear at last. "I like the travelling. I like the adventures. It's just a part of who I am- who we are, as a family." Amy took hold of his hand under the table, a tiny, genuine smile flitted across the Doctor's features, and River nodded.

His mother looked torn. "I- I understand. But oh, why must you all worry me so?" She turned away from the table and wiped furiously at her eyes, and the rest of them returned to their meals, though there was a heavy feeling of discomfort among them.

Hermione quietly, almost timidly, broke the silence. "I'm sorry- but Amy, before, you said 'travelling through time and space'."

"Er, yeah, I did," his wife replied, nonplussed.

"Well that's impossible," the younger woman elaborated, and Rory's eyebrows rose. "I mean, you can't travel through time _and_ space at the same moment. It's one or the other."

"Is it really?" The Doctor asked, and he was grinning as though at a private joke, one that the Ponds shared in as well. "Then tell me—Hermione, was it?" She nodded and he continued. "What are you doing right now?"

"I'm eating," she responded, clearly uncertain as to where this was going.

"Exactly. Your arm travels back and forth from the plate to your mouth as the seconds and minutes tick by. Simply by eating, by living, by breathing, by _being_, you are travelling through time and space! To be alive, Hermione, that is itself a combination of movement and the passage of time." He was gesturing wildly now and Rory was frankly surprised that the alien hadn't jumped up from the chair in his excitement. River was nodding along; he supposed the professor in her—the future professor, rather—approved.

Ginny scoffed. "Well that's great, but why do you need a box to do that?"

"You don't. The box is for travel between much greater distances, across the entire universe," his eyes lit up like they did whenever he talked about such things, the big picture that they were a very small part of.

"Oh now that's ridiculous," Percy pushed his glasses up his nose. "There's nothing across the universe to travel to."

"You just haven't discovered it yet," the Time Lord dismissed.

"Of course not, mate, there's no way to get there," Ron said, a smile on his face as he shook his head. The Doctor merely gave one of his long-suffering sighs that indicated the person was endearing, really, but they just weren't using their brain. Rory used to elicit such a response quite often, and so was able to recognize it almost instantly.

"Not for humans in the twenty-first century, no."

"Are you saying you're not human?" Harry asked. When his friend nodded, George actually laughed.

"Oh very nice one, Doctor whomever, but a weird name doesn't make you an alien. You're going to have to try a little harder than that to fool us."

"He's really not trying to fool you," Amy attempted to intercede, and when the man next to her continued to look skeptical, she added, "He's the most alien thing I've ever met, and trust me, that's saying something."

"I'm choosing to take that as a compliment, Pond," the Doctor remarked, but both he and she were grinning.

"Appearance eez not everything, George," the blonde quarter-Veela remarked, and his brother actually seemed to contemplate that logic.

"But aliens?" Bill continued the debate. "Fleur, there's never been aliens on Earth. And the Muggles have barely got past Mars."

"Oh don't say never, Bill," the Doctor scolded. "Wouldn't Muggles say there's no wizards on Earth? And yet here we are in a house that defies physics, the dishes starting to wash themselves, and a sweater being self-knitted with a great big 'A' on it—I'm guessing that's for Christmas, Amy—and you're telling me I can't be an alien who travels through time and space?"

No one spoke for some time until the eldest Weasley stated, "I met dinosaurs on a spaceship."

And just like that everyone was talking over each other, questions flying back and forth, with no one giving answers because they were too busy yelling across the table.

"Alright, that's quite enough," his mother announced. "Enough, I said!" The hubbub quieted down to a dull murmur. Rory took that as his cue to actually be heard.

"So you see, that's just one of the reasons why we travel."

"Anywhere and anywhen," Amy added for him. "And yeah, it can get dangerous, but we've seen the most amazing people and places and things."

"Like what?" Ginny asked, always eager to hear exciting tales.

"Well…" he exchanged a glance with his wife before simply deciding to take the plunge. "Like River." His daughter's eyes widened, but a hint of a smile curved her lips upward. The rest of his biological family looked somewhat confused and even in some cases disappointed. It wouldn't stay that way for long, he was sure. "It's really complicated and honestly you wouldn't get half of it anyway, but…she's our daughter."

"_What_?" He wasn't sure who or how many of them said it, but the shouting began anew, and this time his mother did nothing to stop it. Instead, she contributed to it.

"Merlin's beard—daughter! My grandchild! Arthur, we have another granddaughter—oh, let me look at you, dear—" River was being swarmed by more than just the Weasley matriarch, and though she was tense she was handling it very well. He noted also that the Doctor had scooted his chair ever so slightly closer to her, so that the archeologist was not alone in the throng. Rather brave of him, as the oldest female redhead was now wrapping the curly-haired woman in one of her infamous hugs.

"So, is she your daughter from the future, then?" George half-joked, and he didn't even know how to answer the question.

"How about that; you've got a full-grown daughter before mine is even able to talk!" Bill exclaimed, seeming dazed yet also amused by the situation. He had to grin back at his older brother at the strangeness of it all.

Hermione was frowning a bit as she addressed River. "But if you're older than them, why are you travelling with them? Wouldn't you want to be with your parents at the right age?"

They were innocent inquiries, yet he still felt saddened somewhat. Sometimes he still wanted that- most times, really. But at the same time, he couldn't imagine giving _this_ up.

"It's the best arrangement, all things considered," his daughter was saying, expertly dodging that problem. She smirked as she quipped, "And since my husband insists on sticking around with these baby-faces, there's not much I can do."

He chuckled good-naturedly along with Amy, but the Doctor paled and almost looked fearful as Molly's eyes darted back and forth the short distance between the two Time Lords.

"Goodness me, I never thought—a grandson in-law—when was the wedding? How long have you been married?"

"A day," River supplied promptly, just as the Doctor replied,

"Oh, about a century."

"Really?" River turned to him, seeming both shocked and delighted at the prospect. When her husband nodded, she remarked, "Well, you've got _loads_ more experience than I do, honey."

The Doctor shot back in his seat, letting out something between a squawk and a squeak as he gestured toward the red-haired mother, and grandmother, who stood before them. Of course, while she seemed a little thrown by the differences in their answers, she did not take offense to her newest granddaughter's insinuations, instead seeming to choose to put the male of the pair under scrutiny.

"Well, he is charming, that's for certain," she evaluated, "though a bit jumpy. Put the arms down, dear, that's better," as she spoke, taking hold of the Time Lord's fidgety limbs and settling them back on his lap, River looked on, quaking with the effort of containing her giggles.

George leaned forward in his seat to get a good look at him. "So you're telling me we've got an alien for a nephew?"

"Yep," he nodded.

"Only in this family," Percy commented dryly. He glanced down to the head of the table to see his father looking extremely surprised, and yet as Rory watched, the older man nodded to himself, seeming to simply accept the new development.

"Is your married name River Doctor, then?" Ginny was asking, she and Fleur appearing to have joined his mother in assessing their niece's choice in spouse.

"Oh, he's Doctor Song, if anything."

"So _that's_ why Rory's got a problem with it."

"Oh come on, River, you can't both be doctors named Song," Amy was reasoning, "How confusing would that be?"

"Thank you, Pond—"

"He could be Doctor Pond, we haven't got any of those. Or Doctor Weasley- there's just something whimsical about you Raggedy Man."

"I beg your pardon—"

"The point is," Rory finally cut in, knowing his wife was merely trying to wind their friend up. And it was working. "That's most of the reason why we travel. It's something we all love- the whole family."

"Well, that's what matters in the end," Arthur Weasley smiled, and everyone quieted and retook their seats. "Amy, River, Doctor—thank you for joining us today, this family."

"Thank you," all three murmured back. People began talking amongst each other then, and Rory turned to his wife before someone else could draw him into conversation.

"I'd like you to see something after dinner. The Doctor and River, too," he said softly into her ear.

"Sure," she nodded, giving him one more smile before turning to speak with George, who had just tapped her on the shoulder. Rory found himself in a conversation-almost interview with Ron and his two best friends, while River was laughing at something Ginny had said and the Doctor appeared to be trying to describe just what was meant by 'all of time and space' to practical Percy and also producing a set of toy blocks from one of his deeper-than-they-should-be pockets for Victoire. His parents looked on with fond smiles.

And somehow it didn't feel strange or uncomfortable. It felt right.

**That isn't the end, but there you have it. The Weasleys and the Ponds have collided. I really hope this chapter lived up to expectations; it's been forever since I've written for Harry Potter characters, and there were like five billion of them. At any rate, thank you so much for your patience and for reading, and please leave a review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright guys, I'm back. I know it's been an outrageously, unforgivably long wait, but unfortunately super-fast updates are an unrealistic goal with my schedule. I hope that the quality makes up for the slower updates, though. So, without further ado, this story is about to take more of the lighthearted tone as promised in the first chapter. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Six**

The food was all but gone, the dishes and plates were being levitated to the sink for washing, and small clusters of conversations were beginning to form. Rory took this as his opportunity, reaching for Amy's hand and pulling her up and away from the table. His wife in turn tapped both River and the Doctor on the shoulder, motioning for them to follow along.

The group of four quietly slipped out of the house, and Rory led them around the side away from the garden, down the slope of a green hill until they reached a tree that in his extremely young days he and his siblings had climbed and raced around together. Now it was the permanent resting place of one Weasley sibling; just in front of the tree, nestled between the roots, was a headstone: _Fredrick Gideon Weasley_.

He said nothing as they stopped in front of it, simply allowing them each to silently take it in. Amy rested her head on his shoulder and River slid her hand into his. The Doctor stood not too far off, hands in his pockets and gaze downcast, in one of his more serious moods.

"Fred was George's identical twin, so you know what he looked like, I guess," the nurse spoke at last, his voice sounding quite loud in the otherwise silence. "He had both ears, though; George lost the one during the war. Mum could finally tell them apart after that." He'd meant it to be just a slight show of humor, something to lighten the atmosphere perhaps, but he merely choked up at the end instead. Amy and River drew closer to him in response, and the sad frown the Doctor wore deepened even as he nodded in acknowledgement of Rory's words.

"Fred was always better with jokes," he managed hoarsely at last, giving a heavy sigh as he finally sat down on the grass, his wife and daughter joining him.

"I wish we'd met him," Amy said softly. "It wasn't your fault, Rory," she hastened to add, "I know it wasn't safe."

"If I'd known he wouldn't survive the war, I would've told you sooner," he shook his head. "But I was just scared; Wizarding Wars are terrible."

"You did what you knew you had to," River reasoned. "None of your family would have wanted to see you in danger."

He scoffed. "I'm in danger practically every other day. I probably could have helped them, really."

"Wars aren't won by one man," the Doctor suddenly said, and it troubled Rory that the Time Lord did not look at them, instead focusing his gaze on the gravestone so they couldn't read his expression. "Only lost."

River tentatively reached her free hand out to the alien who still stood, but it was hardly necessary as he crouched down of his own volition a moment later. "Now this date, May 2nd—his death date…it's very interesting."

"It is?" Rory raised an eyebrow, not really sure why the other man appeared to be entering investigative mode. And the Doctor did indeed glance back to address his question, that openly curious look on his face.

"Yes. It's carved all over the rock."

Amy furrowed her brow. "No it isn't, just the once."

"Yes it is," River countered, sitting up straighter and studying the headstone much more closely. "But it's in Circular Gallifreyan. See all those interlocking circles?" Now that his daughter had pointed them out, Rory thought he could make out a bit of a pattern repeated over and over, what he'd originally dismissed as grooves or uneven indents in the rock. Of course, he'd have to take the two Time Lords' word for it that it said May 2nd.

The Doctor by this point had leapt to his feet and was scanning the gravestone with the sonic. "Yes, someone felt it was necessary to carve this into your brother's headstone, but who and why—" The alien stopped mid-sentence as his wife cleared her throat. "What?"

The archeologist merely gave him a look, one he was sure he and Amy were echoing.

"Oh. _I_ wrote this?"

"I think so, Sweetie," River confirmed with a nod.

"Makes sense," Amy agreed. "I mean, you were the first one to notice it, and it sort of has to be you or River, yeah?"

"So a future version of you did this in the past, then," Rory stated out loud, as he'd found it was the best way for him to work these complicated situations out. "That still doesn't answer the why."

"Well, if it was me—and it probably was—then I must have been trying to tell myself something, so maybe—" The Time Lord was circling around to the other side of the rock, leaning carefully around the tree, and his eyes lit up. "Aha!"

"What is it, Doctor?" River was hurrying over to examine it for herself. Amy and Rory got up a bit slower, just as interested yet knowing that whatever had been discovered would be indecipherable to them.

"Coordinates!" The alien exclaimed joyfully. "The rest of them, that is, so if my hunch is right—" here his friend began scanning the ground above where his brother's body lay, which Rory wasn't sure how to feel about. "Yes! Rory, tell your family—our family," he amended under Amy's disapproving frown, "we've got to dash, we'll be back next Sunday, and then meet us back in the TARDIS."

"Wait. Why?" He tried to protest, but the Time Lord was already ushering him and Amy up the hill. Left with no alternative in the face of their determined and ecstatic driver, Rory made the trek back to the Burrow, looking back once to see the Doctor tugging River back to the blue box and gesticulating wildly with his arms. River herself seemed to be getting more excited by the second.

His curiosity way past piqued, the nurse reentered the dining room. His mother looked up with a smile, which quickly fell as he announced, "Right, we've got to be going."

"Already?" The older redhead pushed back from the table, shuffling over to them. "You've barely told us anything about your- your travels or my granddaughter and that husband of hers."

"We'll come to dinner next week," he sighed, not liking to upset mother normally, and especially not when he didn't know why he was doing it. "We'll stay longer then. Something's just, uh, come up or something."

His siblings were beginning to eye him with suspicion, so fortunately Amy came to the rescue. "It was really great meeting you all—I can't wait for next Sunday." She successfully charmed the room as usual with her smile, and a round of hugs was exchanged, his mother only complaining once that she would have liked to bid the other two goodbye as well.

Once they were out of the door and half-jogging to the TARDIS, Amy turned to him and asked, "Do you have any idea what he's up to?"

"Not even a clue," he answered. They reached the police box doors, stepping inside to find both pilots waiting, with varying degrees of patience.

"Right!" The Doctor greeted brightly as soon as the lock clicked shut. "Off we go!"

Hardly prepared for takeoff, both Ponds were shocked and more than a bit confused to find that their rush to the railing was unwarranted, as the usual shaking of the ship did not occur. Yet if he remembered the console layout correctly, River was standing nowhere near the blue stabilizers, or boringers as some preferred. Which meant the Doctor himself had employed their use.

"Where are we going?" He finally demanded, fed up with the withheld information.

"Hogwarts, May 2nd," the alien informed them gleefully. "About fifteen minutes before Fred Weasley runs down a corridor, meets up with his brother Percy to fight off some Death Eaters, and is killed in an explosion."

Amy gasped in horror, and Rory felt the color drain from his face. But before either of them could even begin to form a reply to that, River rolled her eyes. "Oh tell them the rest, you cruel man."

Their friend cast a sheepish grin over his shoulder at her. "Right, dear. What I _should_ tell you Ponds, is that that's _not_ going to happen. Not really."

"It isn't?" Amy repeated, sounding as thrown as he felt.

"No. Because, I still have this!" The Time Lord skipped up the stairs practically three at a time, returning almost impossibly fast with a body slung over his shoulder. His own body.

"Wait. What?" Rory blurted, watching with wide eyes as the Doctor lowered an exact replica of himself into the pilot's chair. Aside from a different shirt and bowtie, the two were identical copies—oh.

"The _Teselecta_!" The alien pronounced, gesturing to the seemingly offline machine. Seeing it now was reminding the nurse painfully of his friend being shot repeatedly at Lake Silencio, and perhaps the other male picked up on that for he pointed the sonic at it and activated it. The _Teselecta_ began to morph before their eyes, floppy brown hair being replaced by that of vibrant red, the long lanky form becoming shorter and stockier, and a heavy dusting of freckles completing the look.

"Fred," Rory breathed, hardly able to reconcile the image before him. Amy gripped his hand, but turned to speak with the Time Lord.

"So what are we doing with this?"

"The same thing I did. We switch human Fred out for robot Fred, after the explosion I shut it off so it appears 'deceased' and the _Teselecta_ is buried outside the Burrow. That's what really showed me; I was able to scan for the biodegradable materials."

"A biodegradable robot?" Amy echoed, perplexed.

"Well, you can't expect them to keep using all those fossil fuels and landfills and the like in the future, can you?" He returned.

During all this, River had been piloting the ship quietly, and the time rotor stopped pulsing up and down. "We're here," she let them know, as the familiar wheezing had not occurred. "And invisible."

"Yes, very nice," her husband grudgingly praised. "Now, Rory, here's the tricky part. You have to lure Fred in here."

"I what?" He blinked.

"It's the only way, I'm afraid," the Doctor was explaining as if he hadn't even spoken. "If we beam him inside the _Teselecta_ itself, we'd have to dig him up again in the middle of the night, and that could potentially scar him for the rest of his life, which he's going to have. So you've got to get him to follow you in here; I doubt he's going to like the idea of leaving the battle."

The alien certainly had a point there. Rory took a deep breath, steeling himself for the chaos and carnage just outside the door, and squared his shoulders, marching determinedly out into the corridor.

He'd only been inside Hogwarts once, and he could see that the school was in shambles. Bits of rubble and who knew what else littered the floor. Flashes of light, shouts, and screams pierced the night. A horrific snapshot of the war that had consumed his family's life. But no longer.

Running footsteps pounded closer on the stone floor, and he whirled about to see a familiar, bloodstained face racing down the corridor perpendicular to his. "Fred!" He yelled.

The younger man skidded to a stop, looking about wildly and focusing on him with alarm and even horror. "_Rory_?" Two hesitant footsteps forward, a glance back down the hall he'd been running, and the young wizard was running to him. "Rory, what are you doing here?! You could—"

"Exactly, I need your help," he interrupted, hoping to capitalize on his brother's fear and protective nature. "My friends, they're, er, trapped—"

"You're here with other Muggles?" The other male practically interrogated, needing no further encouragement to follow him. Fred had always been a man of action first, questions and answers later.

And he would still be that man, Rory realized, as he pulled his brother inside the TARDIS by the arm.

"Merlin's moldy trousers, where is this place?"

"Language," The Doctor's voice admonished from beside them, and both he and Fred jumped. As one, the two Weasley brothers turned to see the Time Lord leaning the copy of Fred against the wall.

"George!" Fred yelped, before squinting and taking a closer look. "No, hang on—that's me! What the bloody hell is going on here?"

The Doctor only tsked this time, pointing the screwdriver once more at the _Teselecta_. The robot opened its—Fred's—eyes and straightened up, walking out and into the corridor. The alien snapped the door shut behind it, clicking the lock. This seemed to startle Fred into movement once more, as he'd frozen in shock when the _Teselecta_ had seemingly come to life.

"Hey, what was that—where am I—who are you people—Rory, _what_?" His younger brother appeared unable to decide on one question to ask, as he stared at them with wide eyes before twisting on the spot. "Ow!"

"Sorry, no Apparition in here," the Time Lord clarified cheerfully. "You're stuck with us for the time being."

"Stuck _where_? Rory, you said you and your friends were trapped—how'd you even get here?"

"Um, that's going to take a while to explain," he said uneasily as the redheaded male glared accusingly at him. "But I'm sorry I lied. These are my friends, but they're not trapped—and you're not either—we're just here to help."

"Help with what?" Fred demanded harshly.

"Saving your life, so you might want to start sounding more grateful," Amy retorted.

Fred gaped at her for a long moment. "What do you mean?" He asked in a quieter, less angry tone.

"That other you that went out there, it's a copy sort-of," Rory tried his best to explain. "We're replacing you with it because, well, there's going to be an explosion and you're caught up in it."

"What?" It was a barely there whisper, and Fred allowed him to drag his almost limp body up the steps to the monitor screen. River appeared to have taken over control of the robot with the console's controls, and they watched on the screen through the _Teselecta_'s eyes as it and Percy fought off Death Eaters. In its peripheral view, Rory could just make out three other people—Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"I can turn the sound on for everyone, if you like," his daughter offered gently, flipping another switch. As she did so, the Doctor handed what appeared to be a headset to his brother, who numbly put it on.

"Hello, Minister!" The brother in between their two ages was greeting one of his dueling opponents with more bravado than Rory had ever heard from him. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

Perhaps because of the absurdity of it all, Fred chuckled and remarked, "You're joking, Perce! You actually are joking…I don't think I've heard you joke since you were—"

A sudden _boom_, dreadful and so much louder than all the rest burst, cutting off his brother's words as they all jumped as a group. Large, boulder-sized pieces of the castle flew up and the monitor screen abruptly went black.

"Oh Merlin…" Fred breathed in the heavy silence. "That was- that was supposed to be me? But- but—oh Merlin…" The younger male suddenly gave a start. "Percy!" The redhead raced down to the door, tugging uselessly on the handle. "Percy was in that—"

"He's fine, Fred, they're all going to be fine," he hastened to reassure, following after his brother and placing steadying hands on the other man's shoulders. "There's nothing for you to do."

"What do you mean, I've got to get back out there—"

"You can't," the Doctor stated, flipping a switch. The stabilizers still on, they returned calmly to the Vortex.

"Wait, what just happened- you can't keep me here, they need me—I should- I should- I—" His brother, seemingly overcome, collapsed against him. Rory smoothed back his hair, matted down with sweat, dirt, and blood, and shifted his brother's unconscious weight in his arms.

"The poor man," Amy said sadly, looking upon the sleeping form of his brother with pity and concern.

"Yes, it will be best to let him rest, address all the underlying issues when he feels up to it," the Doctor decided. "There should be an available room somewhere in that direction." He tilted his head to indicate the corridor up the stairs, and Rory nodded. His wife came down the steps to help him begin taking his brother back up them.

And as the two of them struggled to carry a dirty, sleeping Fred between them, it really started to dawn on Rory what had just happened, the enormity they'd just avoided. Fred's death…it had never really happened.

He had to pause as a sudden wave of lightheaded relief washed over him, and Amy stopped as well, observing him cautiously, perhaps worried he was about to faint as well. "Sorry, I just…can't believe it. This shouldn't be real, this _never_ happens—I can't believe we did it. I've seen so many impossible things, but I can't believe the Doctor actually managed _this_."

"When it comes to us, he manages just about anything," Amy, the daughter of Augustus and Tabetha Pond stated, and the thought made him smile. He had to have the most complicated, impossible, wonderful family in the Universe. And in times like this, that was just fine.

**Ok, stopping there for this chapter! The next will see Fred reintegrated into life and his family—because I couldn't resist a DH fixit. Sorry? Nah, not really. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ok, so took a bit of a hiatus on this one. I really do love hearing from you guys though, I just never seem to learn my lesson that writing multiple stories at once is a bad idea. Ah well. Without further ado, the chapter you've been waiting for!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seven**

He awoke to an unfamiliar room, the lights dimmed and the bed incredibly comfortable. But this couldn't possibly be right; none of the safe houses he, George, Lee, and Kingsley had been moving between were this nicely furnished. And—

The battle! Fred sat bolt upright, heart hammering in his chest. They'd gone to Hogwarts to make a desperate stand against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. So where was he now?

And then he remembered; the flashes of light and explosions, losing sight of George somewhere among the fray, only to find—Rory.

Rory and the box. The box where he'd seen what should have been his death. But he was alive?

He was sitting there staring at his hands when his brother walked in with a tray of food. "Good morning," the other greeted. "I think it's morning for you. It's more like really, really late at night for me, but you sort of stop noticing after a while."

He stopped trying to wrap his head around that after a moment and simply asked, "Where are we?"

"We're in the TARDIS," the older answered, setting the tray on a bedside table. At his continued blank expression, Rory elaborated, "It's—actually, just think of it as a magical house that flies. And travels through space and time."

"What?" Fred exclaimed, more in disbelief than anything else. "Rory, magic can't do that!" Who had been telling his brother lies?

"Well that's cause it's science," the other man contradicted, adding under his breath, "somehow. I just thought it'd be easier for you to think of it as magic."

"Muggles have flying time machines?"

"It's not exactly Muggle—I mean, it is non-magical, just not…human non-magical." His brother groaned in frustration when he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why do that keep having me try to explain this?"

"Who's they?"

"Oh, Amy, the Doctor, River—"

"Wait. Amy? Isn't that—"

"My wife, yeah."

Fred found himself instantly curious. While he'd known Fleur for nearly four years, he had never even gotten a glimpse of Rory's wife. He and George had often joked that the unknown woman did not exist and that she was made up, which had always set their mother into a towering rage in defense of their more soft-spoken sibling.

His mum! What happened to his mum, his family, his friends? The whole Wizarding World?

"Rory—"

"Everyone's fine, Fred. Mum, dad, everyone," his brother reassured, coming to sit on his bedside. Even when they were kids, his brother had always been able to sense when people were hurt or upset. He guessed it was what made him such a good Healer. Doctor. Whatever the terminology was. Hadn't Rory mentioned something about a doctor a moment ago?

He shook his head, unwilling to let himself get distracted. "But—"

"Fred, I know I didn't grow up with the rest of you and go to Hogwarts and everything. But do you really think I'd have taken you out of that battle—that I'd have left that battle myself, if I hadn't known they'd be ok?"

He'd never pictured Rory as a fighter, but as the other man held his gaze with such a solemn expression, he couldn't not believe him.

"I guess not," he conceded at last. "But how do you know?"

"I told you," the older explained patiently, "this is a time machine."

"You're joking," he scoffed.

"Eat your breakfast and get cleaned up," his brother advised. "Then we'll see."

He scarfed down the eggs and sausage as quick as he could, then hopped in the shower. To wash the sweat and dirt and dust and blood off of himself was a wonderful feeling, and only further reminded him how close he'd been to death. An image popped into his head of that little screen blinking off and he shivered with more than cold as he stepped out into the bathroom. Rory had found him clothes from somewhere, so he changed and met his brother in the corridor of this strange place.

"It's pretty easy to get lost in here," the other man informed him as they started walking, "but if you ask nicely, she usually gets you where you need to go."

"Who's she?"

"The TARDIS."

"You said we were _in_ the TARDIS," he accused.

"We are."

"But—"

"Let's just get to the Doctor, he'll explain," Rory cut him off, clearly running out of tolerance for his endless questions.

"But I thought you were the doctor!" He couldn't stop himself from stating in confusion.

"No," Rory huffed, "I'm a nurse training to be a doctor. He's 'the Doctor'."

"What, he's your boss?"

"No," his brother replied almost immediately, seeming horrified at the prospect. "Just no."

"Then—"

"Rory!" A loud, jovial voice behind them made both brothers jump. He whirled around to see a vaguely familiar man who looked quite like a wizard trying to dress as a Muggle. "And Fred! Good to see you up and about again."

"Er, thanks?"

"Fred, this is the Doctor," Rory introduced.

"Thank you, Rory. Rory, the TARDIS tells me you left some dishes in Fred's room. Now, what did we agree upon after the crumbs in the console?"

"Doctor, I'll get them after—"

"Rory." The two men seemed to engage in a staring match of some sort, until his brother finally deflated.

"I'll be in the kitchen."

"Good man. I think I can guide Fred to my own control room, at any rate." The doubtful look Rory cast over his shoulder had him nervous, but the Doctor simply grinned at him and started down the hall, calling, "Come along, Pond Eight!"

He puzzled over that odd title until they reached a large, rather circular room which was currently occupied by two women chatting amiably. They were incredibly different in appearance; where the younger was tall with long, straight red hair, the older was likely quite short without the heels she had strapped on and had wild blonde curls. He felt as though he'd met them also the previous night, before he'd…

Oh. He'd fainted? In front of two women to boot, George was never going to let him live it down.

"River, where are you taking us?" His escort demanded, hurrying to the blonde who had been standing by what he supposed could be called a control panel.

"Nowhere, Sweetie, merely checking the Vortex. Are you going to ask this everything I even go near the console?"

The other woman yawned and stretched lazily, getting up from the chair placed nearby. "Get used to it, River, it never changes."

"I can answer for myself, thank you very much, Pond," the bowtie-wearing man retorted, beginning some sort of technobabble conversation with the first woman as the redhead approached him.

"So, you really are identical," she remarked, grinning.

He blinked. "Sorry?"

"To George," she clarified and he nodded. "Met him, oh, a few hours ago."

"You saw George a few hours ago? Where?" He barely stopped himself from grabbing her by the arms he was so frantic. She just smirked.

"Easy there, it doesn't work like that. Sure, I saw him a few hours ago, but the George you know hasn't met me yet. He won't for about two years."

"What?" He asked, bewildered.

She frowned. "Rory didn't tell you this was a time machine yet? What a great husband, makes me explain it all to the in-laws."

"No, he said it was—you're Amy!" He stared at her with new eyes. Well, she'd certainly fit in at all the Weasley family get-togethers, he'd hardly ever seen anyone outside of his blood relatives with hair that red. She was also incredibly beautiful, and he had to wonder how a shy bloke like his brother had even gotten her attention.

"Yeah, I'm Amy. It's nice to finally meet all of you Weasleys," she shook his hand, but he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"But you've only met me and Rory and dad, right? I mean, mum would've had a field day if—"

Amy sighed and shook her head, effectively cutting him off. "No, you're not getting it yet. I don't meet the rest of your family until about two years from now, from where you're looking at it. But I just did it a few hours ago."

"But- it—definitely not getting it," he hung his head in defeat and she laughed.

"It's kind of a lot to take in, yeah. But look, it's way easier if you just abandon all logic and accept that this is a time machine that'll take you anywhere and anywhen. Just use your imagination, yeah?"

Well, he and George had always been told that they had overactive imaginations. He nodded, and she smiled at him. "Ok, so when you have a time machine, you don't necessarily have to do everything in the same order as everyone else. So I can go to Sunday dinner at the Burrow, and then jump back two years to meet you if I want."

"Ok," he nodded again. "It's still pretty confusing. Isn't it tricky not always being in the right order?"

"I've got a better time of it than some," the woman countered, her eyes sad as she glanced over at the bickering pair by the console. "But anyway, how are you feeling now?"

"Better," he answered. "Getting over the shock, I suppose. But I'm in a time machine! I never thought something like this would happen to me."

They both laughed, but the Doctor's voice broke in. "Ordinarily it wouldn't have, shouldn't have. I'm not typically in the business of mixing up with wizards. But your brother happened upon circumstance when he met Amy Pond." The man placed his hands on the redhead's shoulders, and she merely shot a grin back at him.

"Why, are you secretly a witch and he married you without knowing?" It was the only explanation he could think of. They both stared at him a moment.

"Er, no, actually I was talking more about the fact that she had me as a not-so-imaginary friend."

"And son-in-law," Amy added quickly, and he gaped.

"Do we really have to get into this now?" The Doctor inquired, lifting his hands off her shoulders in order to step around and get a better look at her.

"Might as well let him know everything at once," she shrugged, "and the faster we get it over with, the faster I can stop thinking about being a mother-in-law to my best friend."

"But- how—" They looked the exact same age or if anything, he was older!

The curly-haired woman stepped over, looping her arm through the other male's and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Easy. I'm Amy and Rory's daughter, and I married him. See?" She smiled, but he still felt as though the floor had dropped out from underneath him.

"Is this what you mean about stuff in the wrong order?" He guessed weakly, and Amy nodded.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's the more extreme case, though. And it may seem odd, but we're happy with it."

"And mum's ok with it?"

"Frankly, she seemed thrilled, but I'm never quite able to tell with mothers," the other man commented.

Fred snorted. "Probably because it's her dream to be a great-great-great-great-grandmother or something." The Doctor paled, Amy laughed, and River merely smirked, getting up on her heeled toes to plant a kiss on her spouse's cheek. "So, you're my sister-in-law," he pointed at Amy, "and you're my niece and nephew-in-law." All three nodded. "Blimey, so I'm not dead, and we've got a whole new branch on the family tree. What happens now?"

"Now, we take you home to the rest of the tree," the Doctor announced, seeming glad to extricate himself from the two females for a moment, and dashed to the console. "If you'd like," he added offhandedly.

"That's fine," he stated quickly. As much as he felt he could trust them when they said everyone else was fine, he needed to see it for his own eyes. Plus he was sure they were worried sick, especially his mum and George. "Back to Hogwarts, then?" He wasn't sure what a 'Vortex' was, but he doubted if they were in it that they were still at the school.

The Doctor tensed, turning back from the controls with a guilty expression. River looked rather serious herself, and Amy wasn't meeting his eyes. "Yes, well…there is a catch, Fred. We saved you, because I found a message telling me where to land the TARDIS in order to do so. That message was on your gravestone."

"My- my what?" He echoed hoarsely.

"It marked the grave of the Teselecta—the robot. You're not going to die, Fred. But we found that message nearly two years after the Teselecta was buried. Which means, from your point of view, your family and friends and everyone have to believe you're dead for the next two years."

"They- they think I died? They _buried_ me." He fell into the seat by the console, staring at the floor.

"It's called fixed time, I can't change it. I can only take you back after we've found the message. You'll have missed two years of your life. I'm sorry, Fred." When his eyes darted up briefly, he saw the Doctor leaning against the console, shoulders slumped with a weight greater than he could conceive, and a weary, indescribably old face set in an ashamed frown. For him.

"It's my fault," Rory's voice sounded behind them, and all four of them jumped. His brother was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at him sadly. "If I hadn't kept all these secrets, if I hadn't been so afraid of having one part of my life not accept the other, we could've found the message way sooner and gotten you back. I was a coward."

Amy hurried over to her husband and took his hand, bringing the tiniest of smiles to his face, and for whatever reason that gave him the strength he needed.

"It's nobody's fault cause it doesn't matter," he decided, and they all turned to him with varying degrees of surprise. "What's two years? I'm alive, and that's more than I went into that battle expecting. So everyone's sad—we can throw a big party and shoot off firecrackers! And it's all because of you four. Thank you."

Smiles slowly spread across all of their faces, and his older brother and sister-in-law joined them back by the console. "To the Burrow?" River suggested.

The Doctor nodded. "To the Burrow."

"Really, this just means I'll go bald two years after George," he remarked, smirking with glee as he proclaimed, "I'll have no competition for the ladies!"

"Careful," the Doctor chuckled. "I've met Casanova, Elvis, and every boy band from the twentieth century to the end of the genre, and they don't even add up to Captain Jack Harkness."

"And not even he married Marilyn Monroe," River quipped, her husband giving a start and whacking his head on the monitor as he shot back up with a red face.

"It wasn't even a real chapel!"

"I didn't think it was possible, but our family just got way weirder," he told Rory and Amy.

"Yep," his brother replied, and the three of them snickered together the rest of the trip.

**Ok, so finally an update! Yaaay! I'm really sorry about the super long waits, guys, but I hope the chapters are worth it. Next time, we'll see Fred's reintroduction into the Weasley family, and beyond that—who know? Thanks for reading, and please review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi guys. Really so very sorry about the wait. I suppose I just wasn't sure how to write this chapter without making it a repeat of chapter five. So it honestly took me this long to figure out what I wanted to do, so I can only hope you like it. Thanks so much for your patience and your continued feedback, and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eight**

It all seemed rather mysterious. George had retreated to the flat above his shop about midweek to find a little blue envelope sitting innocently on his table. He'd supposed it could have been dropped off by an owl—except for the multiple stamps on it. Inside had been a letter from his older brother, Rory, inviting him to his and Amy's home on Saturday.

It was now Saturday, and George was near ready to Apparate to the location—his brother having recommended the back patio. But still, something gave him pause. Perhaps it was that he'd never been to Rory's house before. No one in their family save their father, in the guise of Brian Pond, had ever been there, and it seemed to him that Rory would sooner invite Bill than him. Or maybe it seemed silly that he was coming to visit when he'd be seeing the other man the next day. His brother had said he was coming to Sunday dinner at the Burrow.

Nevertheless, he'd been invited, and it would be a chance to sate some of his exponentially growing curiosity about his brother and his brother's friends—family. He wondered if that crazy Doctor would be hanging around…

So with a twist and a sharp _crack!_ George found himself standing on an average looking patio. A table and chairs were set up in case the house's occupants felt like dining outdoors, he supposed, and Muggle electrical lights were strung up in the trees. And an increasingly familiar blue box sat out on the grass.

Before he could go and really examine the thing, however, the sliding door opened and he turned to see Amy step out toward him. "George! Glad you could make it."

He smiled and returned the woman's hug. "Hello, Amy. Er, sorry if I scared you with the Apparition, by the way."

"No, you're fine," she dismissed, "it's not much louder than—well, anyway, let me show you inside, yeah?"

"Thank you." They walked through the house, presumably to the sitting room, and he was struck by how normal it was, and yet to him so odd. He supposed he'd never truly been in a Muggle house before, and it was so very strange to look at. The Doctor and River Song—his niece—were waiting for them in the sitting room, and he had to ask, "What's this all about, then? Where's Rory?"

"He'll be down in a minute," the Doctor returned. "And hello to you, too."

"Er, well—" he said, but River took his arm and led him to a chair.

"You're going to want to sit down," she recommended.

"Why?"

"Because, George, it's a lot to take in," it was the Doctor who answered him. "Now then, if you recall we left rather in a hurry last Sunday—it was last Sunday for you, wasn't it? I got the right one?"

"You did," Amy confirmed, for George hardly knew how to reply to a question like that.

"Good. Well you see, we'd gone outside after dinner, and Rory took us to see your brother's grave."

"Oh." George felt his shoulders sag at the reminder. It was always there, of course, the ache. But some days he could hide it better than others. River was perched on the arm of his chair and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, which he was surprised to find he was glad for.

"Right, so we were there sort of paying our respects as it were, when I noticed that Fred's grave had been carved with Gallifreyan symbols. Oh, my native language," the odd man added at George's blank look.

"Your native language," he repeated. "Right, cause you're an alien."

"I see you're still finding that hard to believe," the Doctor remarked, his lips twitching either in irritation or amusement.

"Bit hard to believe, on top of the whole space-and-time-travel bit," he pointed out.

"Hm. Well, maybe you'll believe me out of sheer gratitude."

"Oh, yeah? How's that?" He challenged with a raised eyebrow.

"Alright, Rory, we're ready!" The other man called up the stairs.

"Are you sure?" Amy countered as they all heard footsteps on the stairs. But was that just one set or two? "I mean, we haven't even told him half of it."

"Oh, he's got everything he needs."

"I don't feel like I do," he disagreed, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.

"The carvings listed a specific date, time, and place," River explained, "which we were able to use to travel in the TARDIS—the Doctor's ship, that box outside."

"Ok," he said slowly, "so what does this have to do with me? Or Fred?"

"This."

He must have answered his own question. He _must_ have. Because that voice couldn't be any other than…

George stood and turned to the archway to see Rory and—

"Fred," he breathed, feeling weak in the knees.

His brother grinned and took a sweeping bow. "At your service, Your Holy-ness."

"You- but- Merlin, _Fred_!" He'd crossed the room faster than a Firebolt, for now he was clutching the man's identical shoulders tightly, checking that they were real, they were solid, and then he was clutching at him, gasping and sobbing for breath. "Fred! Oh Merlin- you're alive! But how?"

"I was running down a corridor when Rory popped up out of nowhere, saying some people were in trouble. I know, right, what was Rory doing at Hogwarts? So I went with him inside some funny blue box—it is whacky in there, George, weirder than anything we could think up—and that nutty bloke over there sent this copy of me—he called it a robot or something—out to get killed cause it was 'fixed time' or some other rubbish, and now I'm here," his twin explained all in a rush, though he didn't know how he had the air, George was squeezing him so tightly.

"The nutty bloke…?" He repeated, and turned his head slightly to see the Doctor. The strange man gave a little wave.

"Hello. It wasn't just me, of course, I mean River piloted the robot rather excellently, and your brother already mentioned Rory—" At his words, George's eyes fell on his elder brother, who had the biggest smile he'd ever seen on his face.

"Rory," he croaked, so overcome that he'd hardly noticed his tears. "C'mere, mate." The other man gladly accepted, and soon the three Weasleys were locked in some sort of bizarre three-way hug, but that was just fine with George. He was so happy he staggered about the room giving everyone hugs and saying, "Thank you, thank you," over and over again. He could barely wrap his head around it; all he knew was that Fred was _here_ and flesh and blood and _alive_.

George finally managed to calm down after a time, one arm around Fred's shoulders and a grin splitting his face. "So what now? We've got to tell everyone, Fred, we thought you'd _died_."

"We were going to do that," Rory told him. "We were all set to go to the Burrow and everything, but then Fred realized…he had to tell you first."

"Getting sentimental on me, Gred?" He quipped, seeming to finally recover some of his wit after the biggest, greatest shock of his life.

"Only for you, Forge," his brother returned, a cheeky smile in place. He then looked to the Doctor. "Well, can't we just go to dinner, then? I mean, you jumped us forward two years, so a day can't be that much."

"What do you mean?" He asked, a little bewildered.

"Well, dear brother, while _you_ have been sitting around, _I_ have been travelling through time," his twin informed him with a feigned important air. "So if you don't mind skipping a few hours, I'd like to reveal my not-so-dead existence to the rest of the family."

"I have always said I can never wait for mum's cooking," he consented.

"Excellent!" The Doctor broke in, seeming to have no qualms about inserting himself into their back-and-forth banter, a useful quality for any member of the family to have. "To Sunday at the Burrow it is. Everyone to the TARDIS." He ushered them all out to the back lawn and stood by the blue box, and one by one the group filed into the little thing. George cast a skeptical look the man's way, but the other just grinned as if in anticipation as he stepped through the doors.

"Bloody hell." George looked around at the bigger-than-expected space. Sure, a charm could have easily done it, but what _was_ this place? A strange sort of machine stood in the center, fitted with all types of buttons, levers, and knickknacks more inventive than anything in his store. He thought he could see a swing hanging from a second, lower level, and corridors seemed to branch off from every which way into who knew where.

"I'd say it looks more like 'Home, Sweet Home,' but that's good, too," the Doctor commented, and he turned to see him leaning against the doors, now closed, with a smug grin on his face.

"I think I can believe you're an alien now, mate."

"Thank you, George. Now then," he stepped forward, but River held up a hand near the central machine.

"We're already in flight, Sweetie."

"River!" The alien stomped up the stairs to her. "You're no fun!"

"That's not what you said the other night."

George raised an eyebrow. The other man flushed bright red and went around to fiddle with something or other, muttering, "Well _I_ hardly said it, did I?"

"Ignore them," Amy advised. "It's how we survive, anyway."

"Yeah, isn't she your kid?" He couldn't help asking, and Rory made a face.

"Yeah. We didn't exactly know for a while—it's complicated—and she kind of took advantage of that as far as…flirting goes."

"Do you understand any better than me?" Fred inquired.

"Not a bit. And you know, usually _we're_ the confusing ones."

"Aaand we've landed," the blonde woman announced seeming to take glee in the way her husband scowled at her. The Doctor then raced down to the doors.

"Don't mind her," he instructed as he passed, "She makes it so _boring_." The doors were then opened up into—the Burrow's front yard! But that was impossible! He glanced at his watch to find it fixing itself, the little planets moving to the correct positions and the hands adjusting to tell him that it was a late afternoon on a Sunday.

"It's hardly boring, mate. It's amazing! Victoire's got a lot of catching up to do—you know, I think you'll easily be my most impressive niece!" He directed this to River, who had joined them by now at the door.

"Thank you, Uncle George," she gave an indulgent smile before stepping out after her still put-out husband.

"Hang on, who's Victoire?" Fred questioned, bemused.

"Brother mine, you've got quite some catching up to do yourself." George shook his head.

"Well it has been two years," his twin huffed, "you can't expect me to pick it up that fast."

Amy looped her arm in his, leading him out to the lawn. "Don't worry, we'll help you."

"Thanks, Amy. Have I mentioned you've got a lovely wife, Rory?" Fred called over his shoulder, and Rory grinned.

"Believe me, I know," his older brother said softly. He then swept his gaze over to him. "You ok, George?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he paused to wipe at his eyes for a moment, as they seemed to keep getting wet. "I'm just—blimey, it's a lot to take in. Really a lot." His brother nodded. "This is what you do? Go around, save people, meet dinosaurs or something? That's wicked, Rory."

"Yeah. I mean, it's not all good, and sometimes really bad things can happen, but it is one of the best things to ever happen to me." Rory's eyes flitted to the open door and then they widened. "Oh no," he almost moaned before rushing out after the group. "Doctor, there's such a thing as 'breaking it gently'! Subtlety!"

George hurried after, as he began to realize what Rory's panic was about; the alien was leading everyone inside—including Fred. By the time he and his older brother had entered the house, however, his twin was nowhere to be seen.

"What can we do, Molly?" Amy was asking his mother, who appeared to be cooking up a feast twice as large, now that she knew they had four additions. Little did she know they actually had five!

"Oh, nothing, dear, I already sent George out with the plates." His mum wasn't even looking the other woman's way, too busy waving her wand this way and that to finish preparations. She cast a cursory glance at the door and flashed a quick smile. "Oh Rory, be a dear and help the Doctor with the glasses."

The odd man seemed to be struggling to balance fifteen cups, and his older brother obviously foresaw a catastrophe as he practically ran to the alien's aid.

"No need for worry, Rory, I've been taught by history's best jugglers, you know."

"Right, well we just need you to carry them, Doctor."

George, however, was quickly becoming aware of the potential for the greatest joke he and his twin would ever pull. His mother had said she'd sent _George_ out with the plates. So, with his best innocent expression, he sidled up to the older woman. "What can I do, mum?"

"Oh, George, could you grab the—" His mum began distractedly, before stopping and turning fully to face him. "I thought you'd already gone out to the dining room."

"What do you mean, mum? I just got hear with Rory's crew," he informed her honestly, and doing his best to keep from smiling.

His poor mum looked baffled. "No, but I just gave you the plates only a minute ago! You—"

A female shriek sounded from the dining room, and the whole group hurried in to see Hermione pointing in alarm at Fred, who appeared to be in the middle of laying the plates down. "George! Your ear—it's _back_!"

"It is?" He exclaimed with mock shock, and everyone's heads whipped about to stare at him in the doorway instead. George made a show of feeling the side of his head and then frowning. "No it isn't. Thanks for getting my hopes up, Hermione!"

Now everyone was looking back and forth between him and Fred, mouths agape. Hermione was trying to stutter back some sort of response, but it seemed the poor girl had gone catatonic. Fred stepped forward and took up her hands.

"Don't be frightened, dear sister-in-law, it's only me."

"I- I- I'm not your sister-in-law," she finally managed, and Fred pouted in feigned confusion.

"You're not? Bloody hell, Ron, two years and you haven't made the move?" His twin tsked at their younger brother who had been deathly pale, but was now a bright red. "I guess nothing's really changed at all."

At this point, George was trying his best not to just burst out laughing, but a quiet, shaking voice sobered him up instantly. "What's going on?" His father was standing at the head of the table, wand out, and looking very solemn.

Harry was mirroring his actions, tensed as if ready for an attack, and muttered, "Get back, everybody."

Beside him, his mum was physically shaking, her eyes wide. "Who are you?" She whispered.

Fred's amused smirk had faded to a softer smile now, and he slowly approached their mother. "It's me, mum," he said, opening his arms. "It's Fred. I'm home."

The red-haired turned those astounded eyes on him, and he nodded. "Fred?" She looked back at his twin, who nodded as well. "_Fred_. Oh, oh my baby!" Their mother practically launched herself into Fred's arms, and crushed him in one of her hugs, sobbing her eyes out. But tears were streaming down Fred's face, too. A lot of people seemed to be crying, though maybe that was because his own vision was watery. Everyone was giving their own exclamations of shock, crowding around to get a good look at his twin.

Their father, though, was the first to join the hug. "Dad," Fred choked out around a lump in his throat. "Mum." The two parents pulled back, yet stayed practically plastered to their son's sides, but everyone else did their best to get in close as well. "Hey, Bill—and Fleur! Oh, see who you meant by Victoire, George. Ron—come here, you prick, I see you crying! Ginny…there's my baby sister. Ow! Alright, not a baby. Harry, mate, good to see you! And sorry about the joke, Mione, always a good sport, you are—"

"But- but—" Percy had not moved from where he'd frozen in disbelief. "But you- you said—and I _saw_—"

The whole crowd parted as Fred walked to their brother. "I know, Perce. But I swear, it's really me." Abruptly, their stiff, proper, no-nonsense brother threw his arms around the other, clearly crying into the shorter man's shoulder. "Aw, Perce, I never knew you cared," his twin remarked, but was clutching back just as tightly. "I hope you haven't stopped telling jokes cause of me, Perce, Merlin knows this family needs them."

"Oh my- oh my word, I don't know what to say," his mother was repeating over and over.

"I think I have to ask—how?" His father's eyes fell on him, and George shrugged.

"Try asking the brilliant time-travelers over here," he jerked his thumb at Rory, who had his arms around Amy just as she did around him. They both also had been crying, but the tears had stopped.

"Oh, well, we sort of found a message telling us to go back," Rory began, "and we managed to get Fred away from the battle and replace him with a sort of mechanical copy that River controlled." George shot another grateful smile the blonde's way, and she returned it with her own warm smile. Rory turned to address Ron and his two friends, and Percy. "That's what you all saw, that's what's- er, out there by the tree. We couldn't bring him back any earlier than now, though, because otherwise you'd remember it and—oh," he broke off, for their mum had strode forward and embraced him. She did so to Amy and River, as well, and soon most of them were approaching the group.

"I think you might be our heroes, Rory," Bill commented with a grin as he clapped the younger on the shoulder. He took the baby from his wife so that she could also embrace the three.

"I don't think we can compete, actually," Rory disagreed, gesturing to the famed Golden Trio.

Ron snorted. "You kidding? This is bloody brilliant, mate! How'd you even pull it off?"

"Oh, well," his brother stammered in reply, as awkward as ever under all the attention and praise. "We didn't really—I mean, the Doctor found the message. And it's his time machine. Not to mention the copy he rigged of Fred—whole thing was his idea, really."

The Doctor! Somewhere in all the joy and confusion George had completely lost track of the alien—and for good reason. The enigmatic man had hung back near the archway to the kitchen, leaning against it with his arms crossed in a satisfied sort of way. A gentle smile was on his face and if he had been crying, he'd hidden the evidence well, though his eyes seemed both happy and yet tired.

"One of the greatest things I've ever done, I'd say," he observed softly, seeming to drink in the scene. In fact, George suspected he was doing just that, like they were an image he was capturing in his mind, and that he noticed everything.

Except, perhaps, an incoming Molly Weasley.

"Oh—can't ever thank you enough—you wonderful man!"

"Ah, no need for thanks, Mrs. Weasley," the alien hastened to say, but she had him in her arms now, and it didn't seem like he'd be getting away anytime soon. George watched in amusement and heard River laughing as his mum likely snapped a few of the Doctor's bones.

"It's Molly or mum, dear, I won't hear anything else," she warned sternly before her smile returned. "But so polite—bashful, even! Isn't he just a sweetie!"

"I quite agree," his eldest niece concurred, but his mother was hardly paying attention as she'd now moved to planting kisses all over the Doctor's bright red face face.

"Think she's found a new favorite son?" Ginny remarked with a smirk.

"That's hardly fair, Gin, you had sixteen years to solidify _your_ position," Fred shot back, and she grinned and hugged him again.

"Might I suggest we all sit down to eat before it gets cold?" His father said at last, seeming just as entertained as everyone, but taking pity on the Doctor. "Molly, dear, he must be hungry."

That of course did the trick as his mum at last released the flailing, spluttering man and patted him on the cheek a final time. "Of course, sit down, sit down everyone! I do hope you've been eating, dear, you're just a bit too thin."

"Thank you, madam," the Doctor at last managed, fixing his bowtie and then clutching at his lapels in an attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. River snuck around to his side and tugged him over to the table, and George snickered as she placed her own kiss on the alien's cheek, which blushed a rosy pink again.

Bill dutifully conjured up an extra chair, and George found himself, as he had so many times before, seated at his brother's side. "Am I looking forward to this," his twin muttered as the food began to serve itself onto their plates, and George tried to think of when Fred's last home-cooked meal must have been. All those months on the run…but that was behind all of them, now.

"Here we all are," his father said with a warm smile, eyes passing over everyone's faces. "The luckiest family in the world."

He couldn't agree more.

**Oookay, so that's kind of it as far as a continuous story goes! I want to post some little vignettes about Weasley-Pond life after this, but I'll get to that later. Thanks so much for all your feedback and support for this zany little idea of mine. Thanks again for reading, and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here it is for real this time, guys. The final chapter. I know a lot of you will be sad to see this end, but all good things have to at some point. I feel I've done everything I could with this idea, but here's a few extra scenes that didn't quite fit into the original narrative.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nine**

"C'mon, Sweetie. It'll be fun!"

"Absolutely not. River, you are not going to get me on one of these things."

The two stood arguing, as usual, only this time on the Weasley's makeshift Quidditch pitch. The archeologist had the height advantage for once as she sat sidesaddle on a broom a few feet in the air. Several of the Weasleys and their significant others were already zooming about back and forth in a pickup game of the popular wizard sport, but the Doctor had his feet planted firmly on the ground.

"You're telling me you'll fly halfway across the universe in a box, but you're too scared to fly a few feet on a broom?"

"Not scared! Just- skeptical. The TARDIS is not a box, she's a Type 40 Time Capsule that's designed to fly. A broom just shouldn't work."

"Well, it's working, dear. Just look around," the blonde gestured to the Quidditch players, and to her own current position. She then patted the space left on the broom. "You don't have to go alone."

But he gave an incredulous sort of sound. "If I'm having trouble believing this thing can hold _one_ person, how do you expect me to feel safe trying two?"

"You might want to tell my parents that, then," the woman remarked, nodding at something over his shoulder.

"What?" The Doctor turned to see what she had indicated, only to find Amy convincing Rory to take the two of them up into the air.

"Oh come on, stupid face," the Scottish woman rolled her eyes, sounding not unlike her own daughter had moments before, "Your siblings said I can't make it work by myself since I'm not magic, but you can. So you'll just have to take me."

"Well…" Rory hesitated. It was true that if a broom had enough latent magical power, a Squib could get it to work. Sure, it wouldn't be capable of a Wronski Feint or anything fancy, but he would be able to control it pretty well. It had been one of the few magical things first Charlie, and then Rory could participate in with his siblings, and he had missed it. Plus Amy was fixing him with that pouty look he could never deny. "Ok," he agreed with a grin, throwing a leg over the broom and wrapping an arm securely around his wife.

"What on Earth are you doing, Pond?" The Doctor couldn't help but question her sanity.

"Getting _off_ the Earth, actually," she retorted while making a face at him. "It's called fun, Raggedy Man. Try it." And with that the two took off, Amy giving a whoop of excitement.

"Good advice if you ask me," River said casually, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he faced her again.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just the whole trusting magic thing. It doesn't come naturally to Time Lords. I'm not quite used to it," he admitted.

She offered him a gentler smile. "I understand. See you in a bit?" He nodded and she gave a little wave before taking to the sky. It was an oddly captivating sight, and it seemed almost fitting. His little enchantress. The Doctor shook his head and made for the edge of the pitch, intending to strike up a conversation with Hermione, one of the few who remained grounded. Because of that, he missed his wife's hurried conversation with a pair of her uncles.

So he was caught completely by surprise when minutes later he was grabbed under the elbows by Bill and Ron Weasley, and yanked up into the air. "Woah!" The ground fell away fast from his legs, which flailed rather violently as the two men laughed a bit at his expense. "What are you—wait a minute, no!" He closed his eyes as their grips slackened and he dropped. These crazy wizards! Falling in his experience was a rather nasty way to go—

But he wouldn't be repeating that today, it seemed, for he landed on something that felt suspiciously like a broom and was now zooming along. The Doctor opened his eyes to find himself seated behind his wife. She threw him a smirk over her shoulder.

"See? Perfectly safe."

"Yes, well, I suppose I have to concede that broomsticks can fly. In fact, this is quite—ahhh!" His bespoke psychopath suddenly went into a sharp dive, forcing him to throw his arms around her waist in an effort to not die. And she said _he_ was the bad driver!

He loved every minute of it.

OoO

"And here he is de-gnoming the garden with Bill," Molly Weasley pointed out the photo, and Amy had to marvel both at the way everything in the picture moved, and at little Rory. She'd forgotten how cute he was.

"He was a bit ginger as a baby then?" She asked, and it struck her that until now she'd never seen any pictures of Rory before he'd met her. Probably because they'd all been moving ones.

"Oh yes, but it had faded to a sort of brown by the time he went to primary school," her mother-in-law replied. "His brothers and sister used to tease him about it, but I think it suits him."

"Me too," She smiled. "Course, he still looks like you all, even without the hair." Rory had told her how the color was almost synonymous with Weasley in the Wizarding world, and she'd noticed how sad he'd seemed about it, like it was yet another thing that separated him from his family.

"He does, doesn't he?" Molly nodded, seeming quite pleased at the idea. "River's the same, I think. At first I couldn't see the connection, but now that I know she's your daughter, I don't see how she could be anyone else's." Amy didn't really know what to say, not sure how to explain regeneration to the witch, but the older woman continued, "Anyway, it's how we love each other that makes us a family. That's far more important than looks."

Amy felt rather warm inside as she said, "You're right."

They heard someone enter the house, puttering about the kitchen for a minute. "That must be Arthur- he was in the shed before you dropped by." Molly patted her on the knee and stood, returning the photo album with a flick of her wand. Amy followed the woman into the kitchen to find Rory's father hanging up a rather unusual clock.

"I've done it, Molly. It's finally finished," the man announced proudly, and accepted a kiss on the cheek. "At least until any of the kids decide to expand the family, at any rate."

Amy stepped forward to have a look for herself, seeing that it was a clock made up of places as opposed to times, and that there was a hand for every one of the Weasleys. Brian had added three new ones: _Amy, River, _and _Doctor_.

She had to look away a moment and dab at her eyes. "That's really amazing, Brian," she complimented with a watery smile.

But a gasp from Molly made her jump in surprise. "Oh no!"

The woman was pointing to the Doctor's hand, which had swung around to the label _Mortal Peril_.

Amy turned and grabbed her mother-in-law's hands, needing to reassure her. She didn't want the woman to always be worrying. "Molly, it's alright. I know you hate to see us hurt or in danger, but it happens." The woman turned frightened, tear-filled eyes on her and she swallowed before continuing. "And I want you to know that no matter how many times one of our names lands on that label, we're okay. Rory and I've got each other, whatever happens. And the Doctor—" She faltered, not sure exactly how to comfort Molly. Telling the truth, telling her that the alien was used to it, didn't seem to be a good move right now. "He always pulls through," she decided eventually.

"Amy's right, Molly dear," Brian, who had wrapped his arms around his wife, nodded to the clock. Both woman looked to see that the Doctor's hand had moved to _Travelling_, and Amy wryly noted that it would likely be there often, and it finally stopped at _Home_. This was accompanied by that familiar wheezing of the TARDIS outside.

It wasn't long before they heard his voice. "Hello? Weasleys? Ponds? Anybody home?" Amy gave Molly's hands a last squeeze before opening the front door. "Oh, Amy! I had no idea you'd be visiting today. Is Rory here, too?"

"No, but we can get him after his shift," she suggested, stepping back to allow him inside. "What are you here for?"

"Oh, it's nothing really—Brian, good to see you, and Molly. I was on the Wizarding colony of Mars—they've got their own school with a talking lion and everything—only I ran into a spot of trouble when they realized I wasn't actually a wizard. So I figured that space wizards are rubbish anyway, why visit them when I can stop by the Burrow, right?"

"What were you doing there then, Doctor?" Brian inquired, obviously seeing through the Time Lord's use of flattery as a distraction.

"Ah, well, I'd heard the marketplace was rather good for…magic things." He scratched at his cheek as he realized they were still waiting on the full explanation. At last he reached into a pocket and pulled out a pair of knitting needles, passing them to an astonished Molly Weasley. "They're enchanted, so I was told, to never drop a stitch—not that I think you would—" He was saved from his typical floundering by the Weasley matriarch pulling him into one of her crushing hugs.

"Thank you, dear. They're just what I needed." Molly pressed a kiss to the alien's cheek, causing him to give a nervous giggle, before she went back in the sitting room to place her new needles reverently in her sewing basket. "Arthur, call Rory on that fellytone you've rigged in the shed, I think I'd like company for dinner."

Brian jumped at being caught. "Er, yes, Molly." He hurried out the door again, and Amy turned to the Doctor with a considering look.

"What?" Her friend asked, tugging at his jacket lapels.

"Oh, just trying to decide if the sweaters she's going to make you will go with the bowtie," she commented with a smirk.

"I'll have you know that I have looked very nice in sweaters, Pond."

"Of course you have."

"Besides," he added, "Weasley sweaters are cool."

She couldn't have agreed more.

OoO

Fred and George Weasley were the very successful owners of a growing empire of joke shops. Naturally between dreaming up ideas, experimenting with products, and running the stores, they were incredibly busy men, and hardly had time for idle chitchat—

Unless an employee came into the back and told them a 'River Song' was asking for them. Then they rushed out to the storefront. After all, she was one of their best customers.

"Ah, if it isn't our favorite grownup niece."

"I'm your only grownup niece, Uncle Fred. You'll have to come up with something else in a few years, though. How old is Victoire now?"

"True, true," George entered the conversation. "Well then, what brings you to our fanciful wonderland?"

"I believe you agreed my order would be ready today."

"Order? Why, whatever order could she mean, Gred?"

"I have no idea, Forge—unless, perhaps, it's this," a twin pulled a tube of lipstick out of his sleeve, placing it in River's waiting palm.

"Thank you, Uncles. You adjusted the formula like I instructed?" She unscrewed the lid and applied the product to her lips, making them stand out just that much more.

"Yes. Though we're not sure if it changed anything—"

"Not like we had the proper test subjects."

Their niece gave a wicked grin. "Don't worry, I brought my own. Sweetie?" She called, turning slightly away from them.

"Hm?" The Doctor stuck his head out from an aisle on the other side of the store. "Sorry, did you need something?" The alien made his way over to them, pausing every once in a while to look at something that caught his eye. "This place is remarkable, you two," he addressed the twins.

"Why thank you," George gave a bow.

"We do try," Fred added, mimicking his twin.

"Did you get whatever it was?" The Time Lord asked his wife.

"Yes, thank you for bringing me, Sweetie." She wrapped a hand around one of his braces, causing the twins to each raise an eyebrow. The Doctor seemed oblivious to her actions, however, merely giving a shrug.

"Well, it was hardly difficult. Don't know why you were so insistent we—mmph!" The alien's words were cut off as the woman tugged him down into a kiss that he at first almost struggled with. Then his eyes clouded over and his arms wound tight around the blonde's waist, and it was some time before they parted.

"You two ought to congratulate yourselves; if it works on him it'll work on anything," a breathless River commented. "Thank you, Uncles, I'm sure I'll be a _very_ satisfied customer." Their niece then dragged the dazed Doctor from the store. Fred and George watched them go, silent for some time.

"How soon can we have that on the shelves?"

"Monday at the latest."

"Good, I'll get to work on the Hallucinogenic Chapstick for Men, shall I?"

"An excellent idea, dear brother."

"…think it'll work on a Veela?"

"God, I hope so!"

OoO

Rory was just about to throw his last dart when the TARDIS gave a violent shudder. "What now?" He questioned even as Amy pulled him down into the safety position.

"Something's got a lock on her, it's pulling her out of the Vortex!" The Doctor shouted over the sparking of wires and the groans of the machine. He darted about amidst the chaos, but seemed powerless to stop whatever was forcing them into landing. The TARDIS jerked around for a few minutes before landing with a bang, sending Amy sprawling across his lap.

Rory helped his wife up as the Time Lord hurried out the doors to confront whatever danger. There was a few seconds silence before they heard their friend's irritated, yet almost amused voice say something that made absolutely no sense. "You are a very persistent bird!"

Exchanging confused glances, the Ponds hurried out of the time machine to find themselves somewhere in a mountainous region. There were a few trees around them and perched on one of them was a vaguely familiar owl clutching a letter in its beak.

"I believe that is for you, Rory," the alien prompted, and the nurse took it, still baffled.

"It's from Ron," he realized as he opened it and saw the familiar handwriting. But as he read through the letter his eyes widened. "Wait, this can't be right," he muttered.

"Why? What's wrong?" Amy asked, concerned for the younger Weasley.

"Apparently Hagrid—he works at Hogwarts—has got a dragon and Harry, Ron, and Hermione want my help sneaking it out of the castle. But that makes no sense, those three aren't even in school anymore!"

"Actually, we've been brought about ten years back in your personal time-stream," the Doctor corrected. "That would make your brother and his friends eleven years old if I'm not mistaken."

"But if we're only a few years in the past, why didn't the owl deliver the letter to past-Rory?" Amy countered.

"Because Hedwig's a clever girl, aren't you?" The alien stroked the snowy owl's feathers, causing her to give what Rory could only assume was the owl equivalent of a purr. "She knew she had to get a Rory that could actually help."

"How can I help any more now than I could have then? I know nothing about dragons—I don't even know why Ron sent this letter," he shook his head at his sibling's antics.

"Dragon taming is your cover story, isn't it? His friends probably suggested he write to you for help, and he had to so they wouldn't find out you're a Squib. He's protecting you," the Doctor pointed out, and he felt bad for being angry with Ron.

"But I can't actually help—I mean, I don't. I've heard about this story from them, and I don't pick up the dragon, some 'friends' of mine do. So I guess we should go talk to dad and see if he can refer us to some dragon tamers—"

The Doctor did not seem to hear the last part, though, for his eyes were wide and not seeing him. "Oh. _Oh_. Oh, I see now, that's really quite interesting," his friend gave a little laugh. "This is going to be fun!"

"What is? Doctor?" Amy prompted with a suspicious look Rory was sure he was mirroring.

"Amy Pond," the Doctor took her hand with an excited grin. "How would you like to be a dragon tamer?"

OoO

"I cannot believe we're doing this," she repeated not for the first time, tugging uncomfortably at the robe she'd been given to wear. Amy knew that a large part of her newly extended family wore such things on a regular basis, but to her they were just odd. Still, she had to look the part.

Amy left the wardrobe and found Rory and the Doctor in the console room. Their alien friend had parked them around one corner of the Hogwarts North Tower late at night, and they were due to meet a young Harry Potter and Hermione Granger with Norbert the dragon any minute.

"Ready, Amy?" The Doctor asked, turning away from the console, and she resisted the urge to giggle; if she thought she looked weird in robes, the Doctor was certainly weirder. He'd still managed to keep the bowtie somehow, and a pointed wizard hat with a floppy brim sat on his head at a jaunty angle.

She snatched the hat off his head and tossed it like a Frisbee to Rory. "I don't think so, Space Gandalf." The pout he wore morphed into a grin at the old joke. "So, we just wait for them to show up, take the dragon, bring it in the TARDIS, and fly it to Romania, yeah?"

"That's right."

"Are you sure you guys don't want my help? A dragon's got to be heavy," her husband inquired.

"No, Rory, you've got to stay put; it might go badly if Ron realizes you're not the right Rory," the Doctor explained. "It's a slim chance, but I'd rather not risk the temporal consequences. And anyway, you've got to be ready to treat us for burns—I've heard baby dragons can be quite excitable."

"Great," Rory muttered, clearly having second thoughts about this plan.

"We'll be fine," Amy waved off his concerns, and stepped out of the TARDIS. "Wow." They were out on the battlement, and she walked to the edge to look down on the magnificent grounds. They seemed to stretch on forever, with large greenhouses and a full-size Quidditch pitch to one side, and a huge, dark forest on the other. A few windows in the castle were illuminated by candles, but otherwise the ancient fortress stood out dark against the night sky, under the stars.

"It's quite remarkable, isn't it?" The Doctor commented from behind her, breaking into her awed reverie. "Built by the mysterious Hogwarts Architect, it was commissioned by the four Founders in—"

"Raggedy Man?"

"Yes?"

"Just enjoy the view."

"Yes, Pond." He was standing beside her now, and they leaned on the rampart gazing out across the grounds.

"Er, hello?" A little voice asked after a moment, and they turned to see a little boy and girl emerge from seemingly nowhere, a silvery cloak dropping to the floor. They carried a large crate between them, a rustling noise coming from inside and occasional puffs of smoke rising out of the little holes in the top.

It was funny how alike and yet different these children looked to the young man and woman she now knew. They obviously had some growing to do, but there was just something very Harry and Hermione about the two. She wondered if this was how the Doctor felt whenever he thought of little Amelia Pond.

"Hello!" The Time Lord greeted brightly, stepping forward. "We're Charlie's friends, the dragon tamers, that's us. You must be Harry and Hermione."

The two nodded, stepping forward. They seemed a bit wary of the energetic man, so she moved to join them. "So this is Norbert?" She asked gently, indicating the crate. A large puff of smoke rose up at the mention of the name.

Harry nodded shyly. "Yes. Hagrid didn't want us to take him, but we don't want him to get in trouble. He's our friend."

"And it'd be dreadful if somebody got hurt," Hermione piped up. "He was keeping a dragon in his wooden hut!"

"Well then, best for you to leave him in our care, and for you two to head off to bed," the Doctor concluded, and he and Amy each grabbed one end of the crate, carrying it much easier than the children.

"Thank you," Hermione said, seeming quite relieved to be rid of the creature. She turned to go, clearly wanting to be done with the rule-breaking as quickly as possible. Amy and the Doctor started to carry Norbert in the direction of the TARDIS, out of sight of the kids.

"You, er, never introduced yourself," Harry called after them, a curious light to his eyes.

She exchanged a glance with the Time Lord. "You'll know soon enough, I should think," her friend said with that enigmatic smile, and they continued on their way.

"Be careful," Amy advised before they disappeared from sight. Rory was waiting just inside the door, and helped them lift Norbert up onto the platform.

"So, off to Romania?" The nurse inquired hopefully.

"Yes, but first- let's have a look at him, eh?" The Doctor was almost grinning, but Amy crossed her arms.

"Not in here."

Their friend pouted again. "Oh, alright. At least a conversation?" He crouched down in front of the crate, placing a hand on the side. "Hello, Norbert. Are you comfy in there?" There was a low growl, but the Doctor did not seem worried by the sound. Instead he pulled back with an almost appalled expression. "Oh, I am _sorry_. I had no idea, believe me, ah, will Norberta do?"

"Norberta?" Amy echoed with an incredulous look.

"Yes, Amy. Our Norwegian Ridgeback is very much female," the alien informed them, turning back to the crate. He petted the side of it, murmuring, "It's alright, girl, I'll get everything sorted."

"He would speak dragon, wouldn't he?" Rory remarked dryly. "Doctor? You can tell the dragon tamers in Romania, okay?"

"Yes, yes, alright, Rory," their friend replied in a put out sort of way, moving to the controls.

Of course there was no persuading him to simply drop the newly christened Norberta off and just leave. So the Doctor and the Ponds spent an enjoyable few hours doing something not even wizards would attempt: playing with dragons.

OoO

"He's here, he's here!" Several children ranging from three to eight came rushing into the kitchen of the Burrow. The majority of them were redheads, although other shades were present, and all were dressed in the Wizarding equivalent of a Sunday best. The man they dragged with them, by contrast, looked rather out of place in a Muggle tux and top hat with a white scarf hanging from his neck.

"Oh good," Molly Weasley stated, ushering the children out the back and sending the large, brightly wrapped present over to the pile of gifts with a flick of her wand. "We're so glad you could make it, we didn't want to start without you."

"Oh dear, no need to wait on me," the Doctor gave a laugh, "I'm sure Ron's already a nervous wreck."

It was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger's wedding day, the last of Arthur—or Brian—and Molly's brood to tie the knot, at least until some of the grandchildren grew up.

"Nonsense, it wouldn't be the same without the entire family. Besides, you've got a wife of your own to escort, young man," the grandmother chided, and he felt it best not to remind her he had lifetimes on her.

Instead, he grinned sheepishly. "Yes, I suppose she's rather impatient, isn't she? Hi honey, I'm home!" He called out, and sure enough, River Song came to stand in the archway, looking absolutely radiant as always. She'd somehow managed to strike a rather perfect balance between wizard and Muggle, not that he'd expect any less.

"And what sort of time do you call this?" She reproached, but was wearing a smile. They both knew she loved him in a tux.

"Uncle Doctor!" Little Roxanne, technically his cousin, ducked around River and ran right up to him, her face a blotchy red as tears poured down her chubby cheeks. "Victoire and Dominique said I can't be a flower girl with them cause I lost my basket!"

"You lost your basket?" He repeated, bending down and scooping up the wailing child. "Well, we'll just have to find it, won't we? Now let's think, where did you see it last?" He carried her into the sitting room as she screwed up her face in concentration.

"Mummy told me to put it away cause Louis kept throwing the petals."

"Hm, then maybe…" he balanced her with one arm as he reached behind the couch, grasping a handle. "Aha! Clever girl, you hid it so well you couldn't even remember where you put it."

Her tears had subsided to sniffles and she beamed with pride. River dabbed at the girl's face with a handkerchief, wiping the remaining tears away.

"Now you go line up with the other girls, and don't let them boss you around," the blonde woman instructed, and he placed the child on the ground so she could run off. Molly was watching them with a warm smile and more than a little hope in her eyes. The Doctor tried not to grimace, instead holding his arm out to his wife.

"Shall we join the others?"

"Yes we shall." She looped her arm through his and he led them out the door. "It's this way, Sweetie."

"Right, sorry."

They quickly made their way with Molly to the tent that had been set up in the yard, and snuck over to their seats, the mother in the front and the two of them a couple rows back. Amy and Rory had saved them a spot.

"Cutting it a bit close, Doctor," Rory muttered as he slid in next to the redhead.

"At least he's actually here for the ceremony," the Scottish woman countered, and the Doctor made a face.

"Excuse me for being busy rebooting the universe."

"Oh hush, it's starting," River scolded them all, and silence fell over the crowd as the music started.

"There will be dancing, won't there?" He whispered in her ear. River's lips quirked upwards for a second.

"It's a wedding, and you're here, of course there'll be dancing."

"Oh good. Cause you know, this is my first Weasley-wedding. Timey-wimey and all that. And I still owe you a dance, wife. Mind if I make that up to you?"

"You better."

OoO

"I don't understand, where are we?" Clara Oswald glanced about yard in confusion. They were obviously somewhere in the country, but why she could not guess.

"It's Sunday," the Doctor said in explanation, and she merely raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"So this is where I go on Sundays," he replied.

"And why is it Sunday?" She asked with a challenging smirk, happy to play along with his mysterious game for now.

His ancient eyes fell on her briefly before darting up again, as if gazing at something she couldn't see. "Because you said you were hungry, and I'm returning the favor."

"What favor?"

"That dinner at the Maitland's."

Clara's lips turned down in a frown. She remembered that evening quite well; the Doctor and Mr. Maitland had hit it off just fine, and the kids had been entertained by the alien as always. But when it had come time for him to leave, she'd walked him out to his snog box. She would have just sent him off with a wave and returned indoors, but the light from the bulb on top of his ship had allowed her to see tears glistening in his eyes.

She'd pressed him to tell her what was wrong, and had been floored when he'd simply beamed at her, and said, "Absolutely nothing." He was just happy to have been accepted into her family.

If he was repaying the favor… "Doctor," she gazed out at the empty field before them, "where are we?"

He placed gentle hands on her shoulders, guiding her forward like he'd done on Akhaten. "Clara, welcome to the Burrow."

As he said it a house, a magnificently impossible house, melted into view, causing her jaw to drop. It was countless stories high and seemed to be built out of odds and ends, and looked more unsteady than a house of cards. It shouldn't have been real.

"Doctor?" A somewhat plump woman with red hair appeared in the doorway of the incredible house, looking out at them with surprise. But as she caught sight of them, a warm smile broke out on her face and she bustled out the door. They met her about halfway, and the woman pulled the Time Lord into a crushing hug. "Oh, we've been worried sick! How are you, dear?"

"Just fine, Molly," he somehow managed to say, though Clara didn't know how he had the breath. Molly released him only to hold him at an arm's length to look him up and down.

The woman tutted after her appraisal. "Much too thin, I can tell you haven't been eating properly. And you're a bit peaky—but we'll fix that." At last, the redhead turned questioning eyes on her.

"This is Clara Oswald, she's a friend of mine," the alien spoke up. "Clara, this is Molly Weasley."

"It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Weasley," she smiled politely and held out her hand, but inwardly Clara felt absolutely thrown. Who was this woman and why was she behaving almost like a mother to the thousand year-old man?

"Oh, Molly please, dear," the woman admonished warmly, rejecting her hand in favor of a hug, and Clara wondered if her lungs would ever work properly again. If they didn't, it was _so_ his fault. "Any friend of the Doctor's is just part of the family. Thank you, dear," Molly whispered in her ear, and her voice sounded a little shaky as if suppressing tears.

She felt her eyes go wide and searched for the Doctor, but he didn't speak or make any indication one way or the other.

"Well, come inside you two, you're just in time for dinner!" With that, the woman turned and hurried back into the strange building.

Clara didn't get the chance to interrogate her friend, for when she turned to look at him again, he was letting out a deep breath, as if he'd just jumped some metaphorical hurdle. "Thank you, Clara. I needed to do this."

So she followed him inside and met more people in the space of an evening than she thought possible all while eating one of the most delicious meals of her life. And Clara realized she didn't need to understand, she just needed to be there. Because that's what family did.

OoO

"Mom! Mom!" Amelia Williams looked up from her writing desk and set her glasses down. Though she and her husband were known in the neighborhood for their accents, their son had assimilated quite nicely. It still felt strange to hear, sometimes.

"What is it, Anthony?" She turned in her chair with a warm smile. Adopting the boy had been one of the best decisions they'd ever made, making their lives here a joy instead of the loneliness it could have been. They had just celebrated his eleventh birthday.

"The mail came, and I got a letter! Only it's got a funny thing on the back." He handed an envelope, made of a heavier material than normal paper to her, and she turned it over with a bemused expression.

What she saw nearly made her drop the letter in shock. A wax seal, just vaguely familiar to her, with an H surrounded by a lion, eagle, badger, and snake, sat clearly on the parchment, waiting to be opened.

"Rory!" She called.

"What is it, love?" Dr. Rory Williams entered the room from his own office. He had a growing practice, but took every Sunday off to spend with his family. Wordlessly, she passed him the envelope and saw his eyebrows rise to his hairline. "Oh."

"Oh is right."

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" Anthony piped up, looking back and forth between his parents in confusion.

"No, son," Rory laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, and then handed him the letter. "Wait in your room for a minute, your mother and I need to talk. Then we'll all take a look at that."

Anthony shot off for his room, as if that could make the adults talk faster, and she watched him with an amused smile.

"That's some odds," her husband remarked, and she sighed.

"Yeah, I just can't believe we haven't noticed. I suppose odd things must have happened, accidental magic or something. Maybe we're just too accustomed to weird." They shared a grin until her brow scrunched up in puzzlement. "Why would they send him a letter, though? There's got to be a school that's closer."

"Probably," he agreed. "But it might be good for him to learn a little about where we came from. And mum and dad always said Hogwarts was one of the best magical schools in the world."

"If that's the case, I'm amazed he got in. It's not like we enrolled him ourselves."

Rory shrugged. "Could he really go anywhere else?" At her questioning look, he reached for her hands and pulled her up from the chair. Smiling, he clarified, "Adopted or not, he is a Weasley."

Amy grinned and looped her arms around her husband's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "That he is, Mr. Pond. That he is."

**Ok, so I lied and included TATM spoilers! Sorry if that makes you sad, but this story felt incomplete without wrapping that up. Why is Anthony a wizard, you ask? Because I say so, that's why! The Sorting Hat can have fun looking through his head, at any rate. So yeah, thanks so much for all the feedback guys, I never expected this crazy idea of mine to receive so much interest. I've enjoyed hearing all of your comments, and I've been grateful for your patience in me while I've been updating this story. Thanks once again for reading, and please review!**


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